


tapestry

by theimaginesyouneveraskedfor



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Bucky Barnes - Freeform, F/M, I Mean Slow Burn, I mean, Medieval AU, a medieval king, but kinda cheesy, dark!medieval, king!steve, later bucky barnes and reader romance, let's get hype, shy!reader, slow hands, steve rogers - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-06
Updated: 2020-01-09
Packaged: 2021-02-26 01:42:09
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 33
Words: 103,347
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21695572
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/theimaginesyouneveraskedfor/pseuds/theimaginesyouneveraskedfor
Summary: King Steven had a wandering eye but you never thought it would fall upon you.Warnings: eventual dark elements (tags to be added as fic continues)This is dark!(king)Steve and explicit. 18+ only.
Relationships: Bucky Barnes/Reader, Steve Rogers/Reader
Comments: 936
Kudos: 1504





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Note: So this is my 100% self-indulgent medieval au. It features a lecherous King Steve, a jealous and stern queen, and other courtly drama. I’m not really sure what I’m doing but here we go! I really hope you enjoy. 💋
> 
> <3 Let me know what you think in the comments! Leave a kudos if you like too. Love ya.

The king was having an affair.

It wasn’t a shocking revelation. Nor an unusual one. The queen would pretend she didn’t know and her husband would act too as if she didn’t. As if she did not overhear the wagging tongues all around her. As if she did not notice the knowing smirks.

So long as King Steven maintained outward propriety towards Queen Eleanor, she would abide his adultery. A woman in her station was not ill-prepared for its reality. Princesses were trained for the falsity of their arranged marriages. And as any woman at court, she was a skilled actor. 

Besides, she was reassured by the crown on her brow. She need not be bothered with immoral ladies of the court. Why, when the flame dwindled and the king’s eyes moved along to the next, they were left without their virtue and often wed to second, even third sons. And the queen remained on her throne.

Eleanor was not spiteful. She bore it all with a graceful smile. She did not exile the king’s latest paramour. There was more pride, more dignity, in maintaining one’s decorum. Even as they whispered about her, the queen welcomed the very woman into her sewing circle. 

She smiled as she sat around the tapestry with those who gossiped behind her back. You admired her strength. Envied her because you knew yourself incomparable to her. You’d not be able to stomach such a circumstance. As it was, your position as an unmarried lady left you insecure and uncertain. A second daughter, the convent loomed closer with each unwed year.

And you weren’t meant for court. Not like your sister, Alice. Buoyant and cheerful, she easily secured a betrothal within a year of her debut. She was confined now for her first pregnancy, her husband a duke. Your father was proud of her and thus, even more disappointed in you.

Were it not for the queen’s favour, you would no longer remain at court. Your father would have sent you off to live as a nun. That could still happen. Time was pressing, marriage more so. Like Eleanor, you mused, your worries were greater than some courtly affair. In a week, or a month, the rumours would change but life would be little different.

You sat not far from the queen, a lady between the two of you, another at your other shoulder separated you from Rose, the king’s current mistress. You kept your head down as you worked at the tapestry, weaving the golden thread along the border. You were quiet. A tension radiated from both women.

Rose trilled every now and again; boisterous and boastful as she sent pointed looks at the queen. Eleanor barely noticed, or pretended she didn’t, as she humoured the ladies to her left and right. Lady Diana was Eleanor’s closest friend, a constant companion since her arrival as a foreign princess. Lady Mabel was another favourite, the last of the trio known for her stylish and often imported attire. You were just another set of slippers at court; easily forgotten for those around you. At least you thought you were.

The queen’s voice called your name and you raised your head as if shaken from a trance. Eleanor beamed at you, Diana and Mabel watched as well. You smiled nervously, your mouth dry and your wits strewn around you.

“Your Highness,” You gripped the edge of the tapestry.

“I hope I haven’t disturbed you, my lady, but I was just telling my ladies of the rosettes you sew so well.” She chimed. “I thought, however, it would be more effective if you were to show them.”

“My rosettes?” You wondered.

“Well, I had the fanciful idea that we might include some in the field,” She waved to the centre of the tapestry, “Little one’s you see. It would add character to the scene, don’t you think?”

“Yes, I think so.” You answered. “Do you have cloth, your highness?”

“A little. It would be entirely experimental but it would give us a task for our next circle,” Eleanour reach down to the sewing box by her skirts and pulled out a small plume of red silk. “Would you show the ladies, then?”

“Certainly,” You replied, “Where should I place it?”

“Just there, along the grass,” She pointed to the green embroidery meant to reflect the resplendent fields of the countryside. “Ladies,” The queen stood all at once and her edge sagged before her. “Gather round. You should all learn how to make a beautiful rosette.”

The women rose with a rush of skirt as the tapestry was folded so that you could reach its middle. Diana and Mabel held it aloft as the other ladies circled you. The queen stood over your shoulder as you fumbled with the silk and thread. You had altered a few bodices for the queen, your skill with the needle your only. You suspected it was also the only reason for her amity.

You placed your needle between your lips and held it there as you began to twist the fabric. Your hands shook but your work was adequate. The whispers around you stirred your nerves. A familiar voice, one which had rarely quieted throughout the sessions, cut through.

“Like I don’t know how to make a rosette,” Rose scoffed. “What are we children?”

“Observe,” The queen spoke up. “How she twists it so. We want our flowers to be perfect.” She chided. “We cannot waste anymore hours resewing frayed edges.”

Rose huffed. The ladies none-so-subtly glanced between queen and mistress. The week before, Rose spent much of the circle tittering with her lady friends and the next day, the Queen had revealed her portion of the tapestry to have been unlaced and the circle set to correcting her errors. A tame but pointed remonstrance.

You positioned the silk against the tapestry and began to wind it round and round. It soon resembled a flower and you held it firm with one hand as you reached for your needle. Suddenly, a knock sounded at the door and it opened without pause. 

The ladies turned to look at the disturbance. The king entered with several of his men. It was not unusual for him to do so. He visited his queen if only to appease her. Public shows of attention assuaged the public and circumvented courtly gossip. You held the tapestry tightly as your needle hovered above the unfinished rosette.

“My queen,” Steven boomed. “Our hunt was short today.”

“My king,” Eleanor returned. “We were just in the middle of a lesson.”

“A lesson?” He tilted his head. “I had it in my mind that you ladies were well versed in the needle.”

“We are, but we would add to our repertoire.” She chided as he neared. 

He took her hand courteously and kissed it. Rose bristled from the other side of the crescent of women. The king glanced at his mistress as he stood straight, a small curve of his lips as he looked around the chamber. Eleanor was not unaware of his wandering eye.

“Would you allow us to finish with our activity, my king?” Eleanor’s long nose flared. 

“Would it trouble you to allow my men to observe? Perhaps we could learn to darn our own stockings?”

“Whatever you wish, dear husband,” She said. “My lady,” She turned to you as the men shared bemused looks. “If you would continue.”

“Your highness.” You bowed your head. “If I may offer advice at the same time?”

“Yes, yes, certainly. You are the instructor, my lady.” Eleanor was close, almost at your shoulder.

“When I begin my rosette, I keep the twist looser around the outside and wind tighter as I near the middle,” As you spoke, you sensed movement. The king stood at your other shoulder. He was close. “So we curl it like this,” You made your rosette, “Then we sew it in place like so.”

You steadied your hand as you poked the needle in and out. When you finished, you snapped the thread with your finger and replaced your needle between your lips as you spoke around it. “Then, along the looser edges you can pull them just a little,” You pressed the fabric with your thumb, “So that they are more petal-like.”

Content with your work, you removed the needle from your mouth and bowed your head. The queen pulled the tapestry close and marveled at the rosette. “You see, husband,” She held it across to the king as you were trapped between them. “Isn’t her work most delicate?”

“It is,” He mused as he touched the rosette. “She has a good hand. Were she a man, I am certain she’d wield a sword just as deftly? Wouldn’t you, lady…”

Eleanor supplied your name as you avoided his gaze. The king had never looked at you before, that much you knew. Not since your introduction at court and that was entirely forgettable. He repeated your name and waited for your answer.

“With the same hours spent with a blade as a needle, I am certain I would,” You returned meekly. “Your highness.”

He laughed and pulled his hand away from the tapestry. “Unfortunately, I do not think my men would be so able to pick up a needle? Isn’t that so, my lords?”

The men chuckled in turn and the ladies mimicked them. You couldn’t muster a fake trill of your own and so you looked around the chamber at the pandering nobility. Rose’s pale blue eyes narrowed at you as you met them then returned to her usual fixation on the king. 

He was still beside you. You glanced up at Eleanor as Mabel leaned close to look at the rosette then you turned to the king. Shy and unsure. You were surprised to find him watching you. You smiled and bowed your head again. He returned the smile, starring a moment longer, before he turned away.

“Alas, my queen, we did not come for a sewing lesson,” Steven announced. “We would only remind you of the evening’s occasion.”

“Do not fret, husband, my ladies would be remiss to forget a banquet. Our dancing shoes are not well worn enough.” Eleanor preened. “We should only hope your lords have practiced.”

“Most emphatically,” Steven assured as he stepped away. His shoulder brushed against your sleeve as he did. “We are most eager to show you and your ladies.”

👑

Rose glowed in a pink gown cut with ivory silk. The colour was as delicate as her namesake. The cut of the bodice drew every eye in the room though it was only meant to attract one. Men and women alike admired her beauty; out of attraction or jealousy. You were guilty of the latter as your own dress seemed plain next to hers. 

You played with your skirt nervously as you stood along the wall. The evening’s meal had been rowdy. Dramatic, even. You sat quietly among the rabble, as you were want to do, as your father so despised. Why if you weren’t so forgettable, you’d have a husband by now. You watched the subtle cues, the obvious looks, the secretive lips.

Queen Eleanor wavered once. Her green eyes narrowed as they followed her husband’s across the large hall. Rose pretended not to notice as the king looked to her, but everyone noticed. Eleanor’s lips drew into a straight line but she quickly recovered her repose. Her sweet smile a mask over her discontent. The king was unbothered by, if not ignorant to, her ire.

You sat with the other ladies. Rose was not far from you. She sat with Joan who was always eager to encourage her. Mary and Beatrice were often near as well. They chattered over their plates and giggled as Rose sent lurid grins across to the king. The lords and ladies stirred in anticipation along the tables.

When the dinner ended, the trestles were cleared and pushed aside to clear the floor. The lords and ladies paired up and you kept to the edge of the room. You were a clumsy dancer and easily overlooked. You’d rather watch than make a fool of yourself.

As was custom, the king and queen danced together for several songs. Rose was partnered with the king’s childhood friend, Lord James Barnes, a placeholder until the first switch. The queen next took the hand of the visiting ambassador, Corwin, and the king was entirely obvious in his next choice as he spun his covert lover around the room.

You watched the rush of silk and satin; the tailored seams and polished boots. You looked down at your own attire. The dark shade of blue did nothing for your complexion and the cut was modest; maybe too modest. Perhaps you _were_ better off in the convent. 

You reached up to adjust your hood as you looked across the room. Rose’s laugh trilled along the rafters as the king turned her again and the queen didn’t flinch as she continued her step with the ambassador. If your father was here, he’d drag you out and find you a suitor himself. But he was away with your sister, awaiting the birth of a grandchild, and you were left to your solitary.

You tapped your toe to the stringy tune. You pressed your hands together before your skirts and watched the streaks of colours around the hall. The dancers paused only to drink and with each gulp, their steps grew heavier. And soon, the crowd would thin, little by little, as the guests slipped away to their secret rendezvous.

As you watched a shadow flicker along the wall, you were startled by another broader shadow looming over you. Your eyes flicked to the figure and you stuttered in surprise and embarrassment. You bent your knee and your head as you greeted the king.

“Y-your highness,” You weren’t certain he could hear you above the din.

“My lady,” He greeted. “I espied you along the wall and am beholden to ask why you do not dance?”

“Dance? I fear, your highness, I am not one for it. My feet or untrained and unwieldy.” You looked up at him than lowered your lashes shyly. _Was it proper to look directly at a king?_

“That is no reason to forego such merriment.” He scolded. “Perhaps it is truly that you lack a partner?”

“And I should not blame them for shying away from my ungainly feet, your highness. I’ve stomped them all away, you see?”

“Not all, I should think.” He turned his palm out to you. “Would I be remiss to request a pavan, my lady? I’ve faced worse than a clumsy partner.”

You looked up at him, stunned. He was amused by the slight part of your lips. Your eyes skittered from him and searched the room. Eleanor partnered Lord Barnes and her eyes were curious as she noticed her husband before you. Rose had yet to find another partner though she seemed little interested in the entertainment as she glared at the king’s back.

“I don’t…I mean, your highness…”

“I could declare it treason for you to refuse, my lady,” Your eyes rounded and he grinned. “I jape.” He softened his voice. “But I should like you to accept…” He leaned in. “A king can face any foe by his own wounded pride.”

You swallowed and wiped the shock from your face. You likely looked ridiculous already. You nodded before you found your voice again. “Yes, your highness, I would be pleased to accept your offer.”

He sighed as if he was relieved. You struggled to keep a smile on your lips. There was something about him, about the way he spoke, the way he acted. He was acting. He was calculating and moving the pawns across the board, but for what end You couldn’t guess.

You took his hand and he bowed to you. You curtsied and he led you away from the wall. If your father could see this, he might just have choked. Not that it was anything more than a dance. A ploy by the king to play the whims of his latest amour, you were certain.

When you were in the middle of the hall, overly aware of the eyes watching you, he turned to you. Courtly, graceful, confident. You were a mouse next to him as you mirrored him in your stance.

As he began to lead you, you peered around the room. They really were watching. Rose had her ladies almost fanning her in her distress but the queen had resumed her attention on Lord Barnes.

You stumbled as your slipper came down on the king’s boot and you looked back to him. He was watching you too. You apologized for your misstep and made another. He chuckled.

“Are you new at court, lady?” He asked.

“No, no,” You were almost amused and certainly humbled by the question. _How insignificant you were_. “I’ve served your queen for two years, perhaps more.”

His brow twitched but he held his composure. “My apologies. It is a large and hectic court.”

“Apologies are not owed, your highness. You’ve your men and the queen her ladies. That is the order of court.”

“Ah,” He considered your words. “Your father, perhaps a brother, presides among my men?”

“My father. I haven’t any brothers.” You supplied and caught yourself before you could stomp him again. “Willis, Earl of Malford.”

“Malford?” He thought for a moment. “Oh, I do recall he is absent for his daughter’s confinement…” His eyes strayed below yours and you felt an odd heat spread over you. “You do not look of the condition, my lady.”

“My sister,” You said gaily.

He laughed at his own joke as he continued to dance around you. It was like a game, a chase you realised, and you dared to think you might be within his aim. The thought terrified you.

“And you? Have you come to court for betrothal?”

“You did not know my name before the queen mentioned it, so how should you know I am not already wed?”

“A dutiful wife never mentions their father before their husband.” He intoned. “And you strike me as a most dutiful lady.”

“Your highness,” You accepted. 

You held your tongue, the want to recant his accusation but it was true. You stayed within the lines, measured yourself so precisely to fit. It kept you safe. It kept your father’s temper. A scandal would be far worse than your current obscurity.

“You don’t belong at court, my lady,” He said. “You are too modest, too clever. It is all too confining for you.”

“Is it?” You asked breathily.

“I see it. You try to withhold it as you do your words, but I see it.” He slowed as the music began to slow. “I see it and it intrigues me very much.”

The tune began to change and the king stilled you. Your skirts spun around your legs as he held your hand aloft. He bent to kiss it. You watched him in dismay. He rose and smiled most gallantly.

“Forgive me but I must return to my queen,” He announced. “She is most needful of my affections.”

“Your highness.” You curtsied and he bowed again.

The whole room watched as Steven left you in the midst of the floor. As he strode to his queen and swept her away from her partner. Courteous, formal, graceful. A loyal king. 

And then the guests looked to Rose. Her face as colourful as her name would suggest. Her glare followed the queen and then, slowly, found you. She frowned and hissed under her breath to her companions.

Your thoughts echoed the confused whispers that rose around you. You turned and wove between the dancing bodies until you reached the wall. You looked around as you leaned against the wall. For a moment, your eyes met the king’s, and you quickly averted them.

Surely, he wasn’t truly looking at you. He couldn’t be. You were but a part of his ruse. His paramour was growing too pompous and he sought to remand her. You were another piece on the board.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This Chapter: The reader finds herself drawn into courtly intrigue.
> 
> This is dark!(king)Steve and explicit. 18+ only.
> 
> Warnings: eventual dark elements (tags to be added as fic continues)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here’s part 2. I’m having fun and I have so many ideas for this. Yes, this is inspired by lots of medieval shows like the Tudor and the White Queen etc. but this will be 100% gratuitous whatever I want it to be so hold onto to your panties. I really hope you enjoy. 💋
> 
> <3 Let me know what you think with a comment! <3

Rose played with the pearl at her throat. You watched her fingers as she toyed with the small orb. The queen’s voice filled the small chambers as she read the poem in a gentle rhythm. You hadn’t caught enough words to string them together. 

You tore your eyes away and watched your hands smooth out your charcoal coloured skirts. Your drab attire stuck out grossly among the pale silks and rich satins. You father loathed your plainness, your insistence on simplicity. But he hadn’t enough money for seamstresses and you made your own dresses or altered your sister’s worn garments. You didn’t mind simple. You didn’t need beading or gilted embroidery. No pearl or jewel hung at your throat.

The spectre of your father loomed in your mind. You’d received a letter that morning with news of your sister’s labour. A boy. Healthy. Your father would be pleased but when he returned, your own failure would be even more stark in his mind. 

You had no husband, no prospects either. You could not spend your life as one of the queen’s pets. Especially given the events of the banquet. A day passed since but the scene remained in the minds of the court. The queen betrayed little concern but Rose was all too obvious in her newly found spite for you. You only wanted to hide behind your hood and be forgotten.

“My lady,” The queen’s voice drew your attention. She looked at you with kind eyes. Perhaps she didn’t begrudge you the king’s fleeting eye. Perhaps, you reassured yourself, she knew it was little more than a show. “I know you do prefer this ode, would you grace us with a reading?”

You stared back at the queen. She was talking to you but you wondered why. The ladies took turns at recitation but you weren’t a favoured narrator. You liked to listen and found your voice too brittle to compare to Eleanor’s refined evocation.

“As you wish, your highness,” You stood and stepped forward to take the book from her. You cleared your throat and resumed your seat as you eyed the verse. ‘Upon the morrow she waits…’

You kept your voice as steady as you could. Spoke to the room instead of your chest. Your habit of tucking your chin in threatened to lower your head. 

“Listen to her…” The whisper underlined your voice but you ignored it. “Sounds like a dying sparrow.”

You refused to look at Rose as she simpered. As she muttered her displeasure. A hush came from the other side of the room, you suspected the queen’s gentle breath. You were thankful for her diligence.

You spoke to the ceiling, not the ladies. Pretended you were some great jester regailing a tribe of travelling knights. Imagined you were anywhere but here. And when you finished, you were dragged back to the insufferable room of ladies.

You held the book open and offered it back to the queen with a small thank you. She nodded and took it. You sat and held back a sigh. Rose sneered at you from across the room and leaned over to whisper to Beatrice. You turned to watch the queen give the book to Mabel. You folded your hands together and listened.

You lowered your head and the dread rose again. Your father would return shortly and _what would he think?_ You prayed that the voices turned to other matters. That the rumours continued to swirl around Rose and left you alone. She relished in the courtly gossip, eager to be the inspiration for such tales. You wilted at too much light and felt yourself much too exposed already.

Some time, during your ruminations, Mabel’s voice was replaced again with the queen’s. Eleanor read another lyric and closed the book. You glanced up as she dismissed the circle of ladies, bidding them to ready for the evening’s meal. No banquet that night, a simple gathering in the queen’s receiving chamber followed by your night prayers.

The ladies stood and you waited for the others to shuffle out. Their skirts filled the space and pressed against each other as they made their exit. You made to follow but a familiar voice called your name. As you turned back, another peeked too. Rose’s blue eye was sharp as she took note of the request.

You turned and smiled at the queen. Your lips quivered nervously as the skirts continued to whish out the door. Finally, the hinges whined and the wood clattered. You were left alone with Eleanor. 

“My lady, would you sit with me a moment?” She asked as she resumed her seat on the cushioned bench.

“Your highness,” You approached and sat next to her. Her green eyes shone like emeralds in her oval face. “I would be most pleased.”

“You…” She paused and her lips parted as she chose her words. “You are a sweet girl. Quiet, naive.”

You swallowed and your smile threatened to crack. You nodded intently.

“That is not meant as an abuse, you understand? I mean it as a compliment. I say it out of concern.” She shifted closer and touched your hand. “Because there are people at this court who should wish to take advantage of such a kind person as yourself.”

“Your highness, I--”

“You’re honest. I’ve always admired that in you. You speak when it is necessary, not merely to please.” The sapphire on her ring finger shone in the lantern light. “So I would ask that you are truthful with me. That you humour me and tell me what it is my husband said to you two nights past.”

“I would never lie to you, my queen.” You pled and your smile fell at last. “I didn’t--”

“I am not accusing you. I know it was not of your desire to draw the king’s eye. I shall listen without contempt.”

You breathed in. So deeply you feared you may faint. You nodded again and mustered your voice. “He...The king asked how long I’ve been at court. I answered him honestly and he… apologized for his oversight. Then he asked after my father. And then…” You thought back and blinked. “He said I did not belong here. At court.”

“Oh,” The queen considered you and her straight brows drew together. “You understand his intent, my lady?”

You stared at her. Too embarrassed to reveal your thoughts. Not foolish enough to think he truly wanted you, but too ashamed to admit that.

“Lady Rose,” She smiled venomously. “He is playing his game with her. My husband may act a stranger but I know him well. He revels in the power he holds over women. I suppose it is why he is not so fond of me.

“And so, forgive me for being blunt, but he would spark her envy by overlooking her for a much plainer lady. A more modest lady. Very unlike herself. So unlike her that she is insecure and his hold over her is reinforced. Do you understand?”

“I do, your highness. I am aware of myself. Of my shortcomings. My station is clear to me.” You assured her. You spoke evenly and without emotion. You looked into her eyes and she smiled. There was something within; a momentary commiseration.

“You’re a very intelligent girl,” She mused as she rescinded her hand. “But you don’t let on.” 

She stood and you did too. She swept away from you and twisted the ring on her finger as she thought. She laughed softly to herself. 

“I suspect you’re smarter than Lady Rose, dare I say it, the king too.” She looked to you again. “My lady, I did not intend this as remonstrance. I hold no ill will towards you, only seek to help you, should you need it.”

“Your highness.” You bowed your head.

“You may go,” She said softly. “I shall see you at supper.”

“Thank you, your highness.”

“Very well.” 

She dismissed you as her attention flitted away to her thoughts. You took it in stride and found your way to the door. You were reassured that it would all soon fade away. That your part in this theatre was done.

The corridor was airy as you strolled through it. The heavy tapestries hugged the stone and the padding of your slippers echoed along the corners. At the first corner, you slid to a halt. A figure in peach silk appeared before you. 

Rose approached you haughtily as she pushed out her chest. She looked down her nose at you and pouted her round lips.

“How amusing,” She purred.

You frowned and watched her slink towards you like an angry cat. “What do you mean?”

“The queen. Does she really concern herself with you? To think you any true contest to me?” She batted he lashes. “Eleanor may think me a fool, but I am not. I know the king was only toying with me.” She smirked. “Though I did wonder if you had wit enough to realize he was also toying with you?”

“I have no intent towards the king. No misconceptions. And no obligation to you, my lady,” You replied. A surge of anger, unfamiliar and uncomfortable, straightened your spine. “You might lay with the king but it does not make you a queen.”

She scoffed and her delicate features contorted. “Rest assured he hasn’t any intent towards you either. Be it known that it was my bed he visited last night. Not yours. Not his frigid queen’s. Mine.” She gloated and stepped closer. 

“I know as well as the rest of court of your liaisons,” You were surprised by yourself. “If you’re fortunate, some countryside earl may not have heard and may even marry you on the promise of a new mare.”

Rose’s face paled and her hand grasped her chest with a gasp. “You’re vile.” She spat. “I always knew you were a beast. You can fool the rest of them but not me.”

You stared at her. You shook your head and grabbed your skirts. There was nothing to say to this woman. So self-assured, so convinced of her own importance. Let her think what she may, it did not change what was.

“Where are you going?” She whined as you sidestepped her.

“To ready for supper,” You didn’t stop, nor did you look back. “I am much too hungry to listen to your tripe.”

👑

You were quiet at supper. That wasn’t unusual. The tension, however, was. Before you weren’t concerned enough to notice, but now you were the crux of it. Eleanor maintained her usual stony demeanour towards Rose but Rose made no pretense of restraining her irritation with you. You weren’t a queen, thus she could openly display her displeasure.

Her whispers carried. You acted as if you couldn’t hear them as Eleanor sent an empathetic glance your way. She could hear and she easily changed the discussion to the harvest celebration. The first day of autumn approached and was to be marked with yet another feast.

You were thankful for the diversion but it did nothing for your mind. You thought of your father’s reaction. He’d surely hear about his daughter dancing with the king and even if it meant nothing, it would to him. It meant that you could be the enemy of the queen. And to follow in the footsteps of a dozen women before you would ensure your failure as his daughter.

When at last the meal ended and you said your prayers, you were dismissed. You returned to your chambers with the ladies. Those yet to be wed, shared their board. There were three other girls in your room; Joan, Sybil, and Marion. Rose roomed with Beatrice and Mary. She snarled as she passed your door.

The door was barely closed when a knock sounded. You looked to the other ladies and Joan opened the door. Without, a slender man stood patiently. The king’s footman, Hugh, was short and his dark hair was laced with silver. The wrinkles under his eyes betrayed his endless duty.

“Mister Hugh,” Joan greeted, confused.

“My lady,” He bowed his head cordially, “The king has sent me to bid for the lady.”

“Have you the wrong chamber?” Joan smiled. “Rose--”

“The king does not seek Lady Rose.” Hugh interjected. “Forgive my interruption, lady, but he calls for another.”

You looked to the other women. Each of you baffled though the tickle along your spine nipped at your doubts. It couldn’t possibly be you. After such an uneventful dance. A whole day between without disturbance. It must be a mistake.

Hugh said your name firmly. He looked to Sybil, blonde and beautiful, but was surprised when you stepped forward.

“That would be me,” You said. “May I inquire as to why the king requests my presence?”

“I am merely the king’s messenger. I only know he wishes a private audience with the lady.” Hugh said dimly.

It was as if he was used to the routine. The none-so-subtle invitations. You’d seen him before at the next door as he awaited Rose; at this very door when her predecessor had slept there. You pushed your shoulders back as you sensed the other ladies listening.

“Private audience?” You repeated, “Well, sir, you can return to the king and inform him that as a lady, it would be improper for me to attend an audience with him unaccompanied. So it is, I must respectfully and regretfully decline his invitation.”

Hugh look as if he’d been struck. For the first time his grey eyes lit up and his surprise deepened his wrinkles.

“My lady?” He blinked. “You would refuse? A king’s invitation?”

“An invitation, not a command, as I understand it.” You remained stern. You thought of Eleanor, of how she would hold herself, how she would speak. “So it cannot be treasonous. But I will not risk my honour as a lady. As a maiden.”

The man frowned. Then he nodded as if only then understanding you. He hooked a thumb in his belt and bowed his head. “Your lady. I shall carry your answer to the king. I apologize for disturbing you.”

“Thank you, Mister Hugh.” You bent your head and watched him turn slowly down the hall. He walked stiffly as if fighting himself.

You closed the door and leaned against the inside. Joan was awestruck and the other two ladies shook their heads, astonished. You kept your head up and went to the chest at the end of your bed.

“You just...refused the king?” Joan said at last. “You...no one says no to King Steven.”

“It was...just an invitation,” You said as you opened the chest and took out a sleeping gown. “It wouldn’t be proper to accept.”

“Proper? It is a slight to deny the king.” Joan cried.

“My father would not approve. And as custom would have it--”

“Are you daft?” Sybil spoke up. 

“Not at all,” You dropped your nightgown on your bed. “In fact, were I to have accepted, where do you think that would get me? Even if it was not for illicit means, it would be interpreted as such. I will not marry a second son, not if I can help it.”

“You’re mad,” Marion hissed. “Absolutely mad.”

“Perhaps, but with my honour in tact.”

👑 

The night was sleepless. Even after the other ladies settled down and finally blew out the candle, you couldn’t sleep. The more you thought about it, the worse you felt about your refusal. Not because you wanted to meet with the king, but because you only then considered the consequence of it. Or that you didn’t know exactly what that would be.

It was an hour, maybe two, after the ladies started to snore. _What if the king was angered by your response and exiled you from court for not playing along? What if he waited until your father returned and punished him? But what if you had said yes?_

A knock came at the door. Soft. You weren’t sure at first if it was truly a knock or your imagination. Then it came again and you slowly pushed yourself up. You listened, a third rap, and urged yourself to rise. You took the dressing robe from over your chest and pulled it around yourself. 

_Could you refuse the king’s footman a second time or would your anxiety eat away your resolve?_

You went to the door and unhooked the latch. You eased it open, just an inch to look through into the corridor. You kept your body hidden behind the door as you peered out at your visitor. You gasped as the king’s hand grabbed the door and kept it from closing. The lantern he held shone down on you through the crack of the door.

“Your highness,” You whispered sharply. 

“My lady,” He greeted coolly but something about his demeanour seemed riled. “Did I wake you?”

“Yes,” You lied. “But I would not begrudge you for it.”

He nodded as his eyes searched yours. As he tried to see through the wood that separated you. 

“Why did you refuse my invitation?” He asked suddenly. “Did I offend you?”

“No, you’ve not offended me, your highness,” You said. “Did your footman not convey my reasons? It wouldn’t be proper for me to--”

“Propriety?” He grumbled and rolled his eyes. He wasn’t the cheerful king who stomped the boards at feasts or harried his steed at the hunt. He was upset and it was your fault. “I requested an audience, my lady, not your virtue.”

You gulped at his insinuation. You pushed on the door but he held it in place. “Your highness, you must understand my need to protect my reputation.”

His eyes narrowed and he tilted his head. His middle finger tapped on the wood of the door as he frowned. “Will you not come out to speak with me? I would hate to disturb the other ladies.”

“I am not in a state to come out, your highness.” You protested. “If you would wait for me to dress--”

He sighed. “You distrust me. You treat me as a lecher.”

“It is not distrust, your highness. Merely caution.” You returned. “If any, I distrust the court and the rumours they would dispel at anything so innocent as a conversation.”

His blue eyes flicked up and he thought. His jaw squared and he hesitantly removed his hand from the door. He looked at you again and the tension left his face. The sparkle returned to his eyes and he bowed his head. 

“You are wise, my lady, to keep yourself above disrepute. It is admirable.” He stood straight and his broad figure cast a shadow over you. “I apologize for my impropriety. Forgive me.”

“Your highness, I hold no displeasure towards you.” You assured him. 

“I am thankful for your benevolence,” He backed away. “Perhaps we shall meet in more tolerable circumstances...Good night, my lady.”

“Good night, your highness.” You mimicked him softly.

He turned away and you closed the door. The click was terribly loud as the dark embraced you. You leaned against the door and listened for his departure. His footsteps tarried, just a moment, before he carried on. You let out your breath and felt your way back to your bed. The ladies snored still but their soft snorts offered little comfort to your racing heart.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This Chapter: The reader speaks up.
> 
> Warnings: eventual dark elements (tags to be added as fic continues)
> 
> This is dark!(king)Steve and explicit. 18+ only.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here’s part 3. I’m still going while I can. Fair warning that I work every day given the holiday season and so I’ll do my best to keep up but so far I’m having fun and you all are too. I really hope you enjoy. 💋
> 
> <3 Let me know what you think in the comments! Love ya!

It was a week before your father returned. A gruelling week.

You weren’t surprised to hear of his arrival from another. Nor disappointed that he didn’t call for you immediately. That was your father’s way. He doted on Alice and shunned you. She brought him esteem with her marriage to a duke and you brought him disgrace with your failure to garner even a betrothal. The convent lurked on your horizon.

When he did send for you, the dread sank deep in your chest. The thought of your inevitable meeting hung over you all day and to face him was an obstacle in itself. Even as a small girl, you’d managed to stoke his ire. You were too quiet, and when you were not quiet enough, you were flowery and irritating. Not like Alice; refined and endearing.

Your father’s servant led you to his chambers. As a lower lord, he had no receiving chamber, merely a screen between his bed and his desk. You entered with your head dipped. A quill scratched noisily on parchment as the servant informed your father of your presence and retired to his vigil beside the door.

Your father didn’t look up. A candle sat on his desk as he wrote and the lanterns did little to add to the hazy glow of the amber fire. His grey hair was combed back as it always was; thick despite his age. His lips moved along with the words he spilled from his nib.

“Father,” You greeted. He didn’t even nod. You waited, hands clasped before you. “Is Alice well?”

He lifted his quill and dabbed dry its end. He sat back and looked at you with a tilt of his head. He placed the pen on his desk and sighed. “Daughter.” His eyes were dull, unimpressed. Disinterested even though it was he who prompted the visit. “Yes, she is well. As is the child. A grandson.”

“And mother? She has remained with Alice?” You asked. You were hopeful she would’ve returned to court and offered you an ounce of companionship. 

“For the time being. Until they are ready to return to court. Though the duke should return within the month.” 

Your father spoke grimly. His tone rarely wavered; rarely rose above a monotone. Only with the king or some higher lord did he show a trace of humanness.

“So all is in order.”

“Is it?” Your father wondered as he leaned on the arm of his chair. 

You blanched. You hoped it was. The king had not bothered you since that night after the banquet, the queen remained ever gracious, though Rose was as thorny as the flower. But all seemed to be as it was and just in time for your father’s return. You’d thought your prayers answered; the rumours swept away before he could hear of them.

“Of course, father.” You assured him. You felt so small before him. 

“Mmm,” He considered you. His lips curled in a sinister smirk. “You danced with the king?”

“At his request,” You replied. “But you know I haven’t a quick step, father.”

“You needn’t remind me of your shortcomings, daughter,” He quipped. “But it surely must have been adequate for as I hear it, he called for you the next night.”

“An invitation which I refused.” You said plainly. “As a proper lady would.”

“A foolish lady.” He gripped the arm of the chair as his lips turned downward. “So it is true?”

“Would you rather I accept and tarnish my reputation? Our family’s name?” 

“I’d rather you seek the rare favour you can find in this world.” He spat. “You are as daft a woman as you were a child.”

“Forgive me, father, but I only did as I thought you’d wish me to.” You pleaded. “You wouldn’t want me to resign myself to a life as the wife of a second son.”

“As it is, I’d prefer you the wife of any.” He huffed. “And if you cannot achieve that, a king’s mistress is a fine consolation.”

You frowned. _How could he not be proud of your resolve? Of your restraint?_ He always lectured you on propriety and now he sneered at it.

“I would rather the convent.” You hissed.

“You must realize, girl, that this is not about your whims, but the king’s. Should he will you on your back, you will lay before him as he pleases.” He snarled. “So if he should come to you again, you will not deny him.”

“He has not in the week since.” You assured him.

“And I doubt he will now.” Your father grumbled. “As always, you’ve ruined it all.”

“I’ve only done as you taught me to.”

“Enough of your insolence.” 

“My insolence? I will not be used by the king--”

“This is not about the king. It is about me, your father, and your family.” He stood and planted his hands on his desk. “You could do more as the king’s whore than the wife of some lowly baron of the marshes. If you were not so heedless, you might even raise our name. The Marquess of Lofton was but an earl before the king thought to take his daughter to bed.”

“I will not trade my virtue for your advancement.” You gritted.

“For what other purpose is a daughter good for?” He hurled viciously. “You shall lift your skirts for my fortune one way or the other. Better it be a king, than a pauper.”

“I will not.” 

“You will,” He pushed himself straight and stormed around the desk. He rushed towards you and glared down as he slid to a stop. “If the king has not already found another fancy, you will do as he wishes. Should he return to you, you will welcome him fondly.”

“No.” You growled as you set your shoulders. “I will not.”

“You will,” He struck you so hard you stumbled back. You touched your cheek softly as it burned. “Because you are my daughter. My property.”

You held your tongue. You gulped as you dropped your hand and stood straight. You blinked.

“Father.” You said evenly.

“Understood?” He sneered.

“I understand you.” You twined your fingers together tightly. You might understand his wishes but you would not obey him. Let him rage and send you off to the nunnery when he realized. 

“Good. Now be off. I’ve more important business than my impetuous daughter.” He turned back and rounded his desk. “I swear, you’ve always been intent on ruining me.”

You muttered a farewell as he sat. As you turned, the servant avoided your gaze and you swept past him through the door. In the hall, the air was cool against your hot cheek. You took a deep breath to steady yourself. You hoped it was already too late and your spurning of your father’s ambitions was already complete. 

👑

When you returned to your chamber, the other ladies were on their beds. They read or sewed, and were oddly quiet. You didn’t realize at first why. You were drained from your meeting with your father and just wanted to forget about it. Foremost, you wanted to forget about court and its spectacles. 

Then you saw it. The small box on your pillow. It sat on a folded note and you held your breath. In dread, anxiety, and fear. You looked around the shared room. You caught Sybil watching you as Joan and Marion tried to hide their eyes behind their books. You lowered your chin and sighed quietly.

You neared the top of the bed and reached for the box. You unfolded the note with nervous fingers and the scrawl within seemed to move around. You could barely focus as you thought of your father and his anger. At last, the letters stood still and you read with bated breath.

_My lady,_

_I have counted the ways I might apologize. For my assumptions, my insinuations, and gross misstep. My intent was never to demean, never to offend, and so I cower in my remorse. In my regret for how crudely I treated you._

_I am of loose impulse. I act often without truly thinking. I let myself be led by my emotions and my thought is left to wither. As I did with you. I was selfish. I did not foresee the implication of my invitation. I did not think of you or your status. For that I apologize, deeply._

_But I cannot apologize for how I feel. For the sudden and fervent desire that has arose in me. The want to know you, to know more of you, to know everything of you. I will not apologize for that would stain you; your beauty, your wit, your very person._

_I should like to atone for my indiscretion. To bring you pleasure rather than displeasure. So I include, with this most heartfelt and since apology, a gift and I beg your forgiveness. I beg of you mercy. I beg of you only...you._

_Your king._

You slowly lowered the parchment and looked to the box. You bit your lip and glanced around at the girls. They weren’t being so subtle anymore. You folded the paper up and set it with the box as you went to your chest. You pulled out your own square of paper and went to the desk you shared with the others.

You sharpened a nib and took a pen. You dipped it in the ink and a shadow passed over you as Sybil neared.

“What are you doing? Aren’t you going to open the gift?” She asked.

“No, I mean to return it.” You began to write your message. Concise enough you hopped your point was taken.

_Your Highness,_

_While I appreciate your apology, it is entirely unnecessary. I’ve already accepted your amends and as I stated, bear to you no animosity. While a gift is most flattering, it is improper and undue. I am thence, with the utmost respect, required to return to you your kindness though your forethought is recognized._

_Your loyal subject._

You folded up the small slip and stood. Sybil was aghast and Joan watched with a smug smirk. 

“As you should return it,” Joan sang, “We all know it is an empty gesture. A scheme to irk Rose. The king is loathe of her triteness though he loves her wholly. You...well, he only wants a puppet.”

“Oh, Joan, what do you know?” Marion chirped. “You’re only jealous that you’re neither of them and you’ll be left to marry that chubby Earl from Priskam.”

“I have seen the letters the king writes to Rose, I have seen the love in his eyes,” Joan insisted. “And I have seen this little mouse in her hole and she is pathetic.”

“Then you should know what lies within this letter,” You said as you went to your bed to fetch the box and the king’s letter. “And know that they are the same words he has written to a dozen women before myself. Before Rose.”

“Rose was right. You are despicable.”

“I am honest. And I see this place for what it is.” You pressed your letter to the box as you turned to the door. “I know that words are never meant as they are said. There is an edge to each syllable.” You opened the door and looked back. “Sybil, may I request a favour? Or Marion?”

“You may,” Marion spoke first.

“I should not go unaccompanied to return this. I don’t think it would be decent. Will you walk with me?” You asked.

“I will,” Marion rose and closed her book. “I should like to stretch my legs before we retire for the night.”

“Thank you.”

“Not at all,” She nodded to the door. “Let us to our task before curfew should deem us unseemly.”

You gave a small smile and led her into the corridor. She pulled shut the door and turned to walk beside you. She was quiet at first; you were nervous as you fidgeted with the small box.

“Are you not at all curious?” She asked at last.

“Naturally,” You confirmed. “But I don’t dare to look lest I be tempted to keep it.”

“Ah,” She raised her pale brows. “You shouldn’t mind Joan, she’s jealous. And she’s far too enamoured with Rose.”

“I don’t mind her.” You said. 

“Do you think the king will be upset?”

“Perhaps, but he has no reason to be. I suppose, however, that a man of his stature finds much to be displeased with and none to tell him he shouldn’t be.” You reflected. “I have made an enemy of Rose already, I do not need the queen a foe as well.”

“The queen knows the king strays.” Marion said.

“Her knowledge does not make it right. Her acceptance is not of her own will. What can she do?” You stopped as you reached the corridor along which the king resided. “As women, we are all given to circumstance we do not desire.”

Marion considered you. Her warm eyes bore into hers and she nodded. “There is much more going on in your head than I supposed.” She remarked. “Thoughts I’d never think to have myself.”

You looked at the box. Your father’s voice echoed in your head. If he was here, he’d slap you again. You raised your head and set your shoulders. 

“Let this be the end of it.” You declared as you marched forward.

You’d never been down this way. Never thought you would. How did one knock on a king’s door. _Well, was it necessary with the guards without?_ The men in mail watched your approach as Marion trailed behind. There helmets bobbed as they observed you with amused grins. _How many women had they greeted in the evening hours?_

“Sirs,” You nodded at one guard and then the other. “I would request the king, only if he should be available, of course.”

“The king?” The guard on the left looked over your shoulder at Marion. “You, her, or the both of you?”

“I come here on my own charge but she accompanies for decorum,” You explained. “If the king is engaged, I shall leave a letter for you to pass to him.”

“The king is alone. He may receive you,” The right guard assured you. “He’s not one to turn away a lady.”

“I would prefer he emerge,” You asserted. “It would be untoward to enter his chamber.”

“A receiving chamber is meant for that purpose, lady,” The guard returned.

“Even so, if he cannot be drawn from his privacy, I shall leave this with you.” You held up the box and letter folded atop its lid.

“Ah, don’t need to be so impatient.” The guard knocked on the door with his elbow. The sound barrelled down the hallway.

The door opened and the king’s footman, Hugh, scowled at the guard. His eyes blinked at the mailed men then turned on you. His forehead wrinkled in recognition and he spoke at last. “What is the bother?”

“This lady is here to see the king.”

“Very well, then send her in,” Hugh said sharply.

“She will not enter.” The left guard intoned.

“Says it’s indecent.” The other added. 

Hugh sighed and looked to you again. He squinted and shook his head before disappearing within. You could hear his voice and then the king’s. Both were slightly muffled and followed by a stir. You waited and glanced over your shoulder at Marion. She looked as anxious as you felt.

Footsteps and then another shadow in the door. This one broader, taller. You bowed as the king appeared. His lips parted as he saw you and he let out a deep breath. 

“My lady?” He greeted. 

“Your highness,” You returned. _Did your voice tremble?_ You could not tell. “My apologies for the disturbance but it was pertinent that I seek an audience.”

He nodded and stared at the box in your hands. “Did you like my gift?” He asked.

You swallowed. “I did not open the gift, though I did read your letter,” You felt it hard to breath. His eyes never left you. It was as if you were alone, as if there were no guards, as if Marion didn’t linger behind you. “I appreciate the gesture but I am unable to accept it.”

“My lady, do you reject my apology?”

“I...It is in my letter, your highness, but there is no apology required.” You held out the box and stepped tremulously toward him. “You must take it back.”

“I will not.” He insisted. “It is for you.”

“There is no reason for it and I cannot accept a present from a married man.” The box shook and you stilled your hands. “You may refuse to rescind it but I will not take it. I shall leave it upon the floor if I must.”

His blue eyes focused on you. They were stern but not angry. In them, a glimmer of confusion, a spark of provocation. He pressed his lips together before he spoke. “You refuse upon the grounds of my marriage?”

“I refuse on the grounds that it is improper.” You said. “On the grounds that I’ve accepted your apologies once and shall not do so again. On the grounds that I am a lady with a reputation to uphold should I have any hope of a betrothal.” Your voice had risen and you were embarrassed at the realization. “I wish that you take it back.”

“If you wish, I should happily appease you,” He stepped forward and reached out to take the box. His fingers grazed yours and his lips twitched. “For whatever you wish, I would give you, my lady. Whatever you will, you shall have. By my hand, by my order.”

His tone made you shiver. You rescinded your arm and clapped one hand over the other to uphold your composure. “Thank you, your highness.” You said. “It is late and I must return to my chamber.”

“So it is,” He accepted as he cradled the box in his hands. “And so you must.” He bowed his head and you curtsied to him. “Good night, my lady.”

“Good night, your highness.” You said as you began to back away. 

The king watched, his gaze unwavering as you retreated. There was a promise in his eye, a nonchalance in the way he held the box, how he only looked away to open it and peek inside. He turned as he snapped it shut and his guards stared ahead stiffly. His broad back disappeared behind his door and Marion gasped as she finally let out her breath.

“My lord,” Marion swore. “I thought I would pass out.”

“Me, too.” You said as you grabbed your skirts. You spun around and didn’t dare look back. “Let us be away. Quickly.”


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This Chapter: The king sends a message.
> 
> Warnings: eventual dark elements (tags to be added as fic continues)
> 
> This is dark!(king)Steve and explicit. 18+ only.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It’s part 4 and it might be a little longer before 5 because I work all night and have teaching work to catch up on tomorrow but hoping that Wednesday will be our next update. But I’m still loving this and hope you are too.
> 
> I really hope you enjoy. 💋
> 
> <3 Let me know what you think with a comment! Love ya!

The women tittered as they gathered in the feast hall in pairs and trios. You stood with Marion, her round face was carefree and eager for the day’s activities. The harvest celebration approached and so the Queen intended to arrange her annual spectacle. 

The more plentiful the harvest the more extravagant the entertainment. This year had been generous; peasant and noble alike splendoured in the reaping. A selection of lords and ladies would perform a dance for the court, all the while dressed in costume. 

You’d never been chosen before to partake in the display. You were clumsy and forgettable. You were content to sit and watch. This year was different; the queen herself requested your part. You loathed the prospect but accepted out of courtesy. After all, you’d rather the court laugh at your graceless feet than whisper of your alleged misconduct.

Rose preened as she always did. She was the best dancer of the bunch, no doubt she’d have a big role, even with her standing as the queen’s rival. She was with Joan, Mary, and Beatrice; chattering behind their hands as if their topic were covert. They never strayed far from their gossip of the king. The gifts he sent to Rose and the ways he liked her to wear her hair. 

Though it seemed she was not so giddy about him as before. At least, she showed off her pin quite passively. You recognized it. It wasn’t new but it was still rather enviable. A ruby rose.

“Of course, the king has been distracted,” Her voice rose above the rest. “The queen is jealous and she tries to draw him from me. She has pets of her own, you know?”

“Nothing compared to you,” Beatrice trilled. “The king will catch onto that plain little tart. He will hear the queen’s voice in hers.”

You glanced over at the four ladies as they giggled. Rose’s blue eyes met yours sharply. She grinned and raised her chin.

“Surely he will. He will realize soon enough and have me back in his arms. He thinks this trick will make me love him more but he does not know I love him more than anything already.” She stared at you as she spoke. “I suspect he loves me too. It scares him so he shies away.”

You turned your back to her. You didn’t want to think of the king. Or recall the box and how it felt in your hands. The temptation to open it. The glimmer in his eye as you returned it to him. As you stood in the shadows, in his shadow, as he loomed over you.

“I know well enough of her type. And did you ever wonder why she’s never even a proposal?” Rose raised her voice. “Simple enough to assume her hideousness, but a man can marry any woman so long as she promises him an heir.” She spoke softly though her voice carried. “Gentleman don’t marry whores, especially those without title or coin to offer.”

“Lady Rose,” The queen stood at the front of the hall. None had noticed her enter and so they acted as if they had not heard the gossiping mistress. All froze and turned to look at their leader. “My court is not a den of such ribaldry.”

“Your highness,” Rose squeaked as she bowed her head. “I did not–”

“Pray I never hear you speak thus again or you shall be sent back to your father’s castle and I will make certain you will not see the light of this court again.” The queen bristled as she neared the ladies. “Not even the convent will take you.”

The ladies were silent. You gaped at the queen and she glanced at you among the group. She nodded subtly as she took a deep breath and stood staunch before her ladies-in-waiting.

“Now let us remember our manners as we are soon to welcome the king and his men. I will not have them think I lead a pack of vicious cats.”

“I apologize most–” Rose began.

"I expect you to gird your tongue.” Eleanor interjected. “Don’t think I do not notice your insolence. Do not think yourself above my authority.” The queen spun and motioned to Diana. “Show the dance master in. The king should arrive with his men shortly.”

The room went silent and you looked to Marion. She was pale as she stared back at you. You slowly retreated to the wall and she followed. You were careful to stay far from Rose. You kept your head down and wished this all would be over soon. Perhaps Eleanor would see your footwork and dismiss you from the performance. It would be better for all.

“Do you think the queen knows of the gift?” Marion whispered.

“I hope not. And if she should, I would hope she would take into account my refusal.” You spoke with your face turned away from the room. “That she realizes I have no want of turmoil. No desire to wrong her.”

“Even so, the king has turned his eye on you. Any wife would be concerned.” Marion prodded.

“But I do not look back at him. I do not seek his attentions nor his company.” You played with the hem of your sleeve. “Let him run back to Rose and leave me as I was.”

“Do you think he will?”

“I dare not think if he should not.” You muttered. “I pray he does not.”

Marion could not pry further as the doors opened again. The dance master followed Diana through and a rise of voices sounded not far behind. Bawdy and bold. The king entered alongside Lord Barnes, the dozen other men trailed in a similar attitude. Boisterous as if it were the night of the banquet.

“Husband,” Eleanor greeted above the rabble. “At last.”

“My wife. We tarried at our game but we do hope you forgive us.” He peered around the room with a broad smile. You shied away before his eye could find yours. “Regardless of our delay, we are most excited to begin.”

“And I am certain Master Ellard is most impatient to begin,” Eleanor alluded to the dance master. “So shall we proceed?”

The king took her remonstrance with a nod. “As you will.” His voice betrayed an ounce of displeasure but he hid it with a gracious smile.

“We must first pair off,” The queen announced as she clapped her hands. “You shall be my partner, as custom should have it, the king and queen of the harvest.” Eleanor hooked her arm through the kings and led him to the front of the hall where Ellard waited with a pointed look.

“Lady Diana with Lord Callum, Lady Mabel with Lord Samuel…” She listed off the names one after the other and the pairs found each other. Your name rang in your ears and drew you from your place against the wall. “…Lord Barnes.”

The king’s brow rose as he watched his most favoured lord approach you. You avoided his gaze as it fell on you and Lord Barnes bowed to you. You curtsied and stood a foot apart from him. The queen beamed at you before she continued. 

“Lady Rose with Lord Alan…”

Rose scowled as she swept across the room. The elder lord was a perpetual bachelor and an overt flirt, but he held high title and great lands. If he were to ever marry, his wife would want for little.

When all were assigned, Eleanor led Steven to the front row of the audience as Ellard took his place with his assistant. The queen was the first to mimic his stance as she took the king’s hand. The rest did the same but you didn’t move until you felt a tickle along the back of your hand.

“Pardon, my lady,” Barnes whispered. “But I think we’re supposed to follow along.”

You looked to him and nodded. You let him raise your hand and did your best to copy the first step, then the next. The master repeated each several times before moving on then counted as he strung together eight in a row. You chewed your lip as you struggled to avoid your partner’s feet and your own.

Your humiliation went on, several toes beneath your sole, before you remembered it well enough to look up. You peeked over at Lord Barnes but he seemed entirely unbothered by your assault. In fact he caught your eye and smiled.

“Your majesty,” Master Allard paused. “I think your lords and ladies might benefit from a brief respite.” He looked around the room. “And we may take it from the top after.”

“I am certain they would,” Eleanor said. “Let us resume shortly.”

She clapped her hands again and the audience let out a communal breath of relief. You rescinded your hand and pressed your sweaty palm to your skirt. Barnes remained at your side even as others began to shuffle around to meet each other.

“My lady,” He turned to you amid the shuffle, “I don’t know if you recall but we did share another dance. Once. Long ago.”

“I remember it, but not fondly,” You cringed. “I would’ve hoped you’d forget.”

“It was not so bad.”

“You swore each time I trod on your toes,” You remarked. “Though you seem to have learned to censor yourself.”

“You’ve improved…marginally.” He grinned. “The best partner’s are memorable, not perfect.”

You smiled as graciously as you could. You looked away shyly and found another watching. Steven stood with Eleanor though he barely seemed to notice her as she spoke to him. He stared openly across the hall and you tore your eyes away. You shifted and tried to hide behind Lord Barnes.

“You flatter me, Lord Barnes.”

“James,” He offered. “Many call me Bucky.”

“Lord Barnes.” You repeated.

He smiled at you and you glanced away again. His gaze was too much. You found Rose not far from you, another glare sent across the room. She watched the king with venom as he gawked at you. You pinched your finger nervously and tried to focus on the lord before you.

“I am sure you long for a more skilled partner,” You said. “I haven’t an inkling how I’ve come to be included in this.”

“Do you not?” He wondered. His brow twitched knowingly.

“I do not trouble to untangle the webs of court,” You mulled. “They are much too knotted to unwind.”

He nodded thoughtfully but before he could speak again, another clap sounded. The queen raised her hand to signal silence and called the room back to order. You inhaled as the king’s gaze lingered on you a moment before he turned his back. 

Ellard took his spot before the rows of nobles and again your hand was seized. This time and unusual texture against your palm. You looked down as Lord Barnes let you go and you turned over the parchment. You gulped and quickly tucked the paper up your sleeve as he reached for you again.

You raised your eyes to his and he bowed his head.

“I have faith in you, lady,” He leaned in as he spoke. “With enough practice, any dance is done well enough to keep one’s toes from being trampled.”

👑

_‘A woman unlike any I’ve ever known…’_

You re-read the letter again. The same slanted hand as the first. You were tempted to hold it to the candle flame and leave it to ash. However you feared what should happen if you didn’t even acknowledge the king’s message. You couldn’t ignore him.

You thought to show the queen. She had offered her help but you doubted she’d be amiable upon seeing a love letter from her husband to another woman. That’s what it was; a love letter. The thought made you even more want to crumple it up.

_What had you done to deserve his attention? What terrible sin had you committed that you were cursed to find yourself in one catastrophe after another?_ Your self pity threatened to drown you as you folded up the letter and shoved it in your journal and under your mattress. You longed to be the forgotten and unworthy.

You looked at the other ladies. Marion mended a stocking, Joan read some book or another, and Sybil laid on her back staring at the ceiling. You’d woken early for mass as you did every day and now you waited for the queen to send for you.

When a knock came, it was not the queen’s lady servant. It was your father footman, Rulf. The older man was balding and crooked. He bowed slowly and coughed into his hand before he found his voice.

“My lady,” He began. “Your father requests your presence.”

“My father?” You frowned. “Has he stated his purpose?”

Rulf shook his head and grumbled. He turned back down the hall without awaiting your acquiescence. You sighed and followed him, pulling shut the door behind you. It was easy to catch up to him as he ambled stiffly along the corridor.

When he stopped before you father’s chamber, you were antsy and impatient. _Had your father heard of your disobedience? What other reason could there be for his summons?_ Yet, even with the prospect of his wrath before you, you did not regret it.

Rulf knocked softly before he entered. You stopped dead in the doorway as he waved you inward. Your father sat behind his desk but a visitor already occupied the seat across from him.

The king rose as you entered and your father mirrored him. You bowed and the king lowered his head. He beamed as he lifted his eyes and your father wore a self-satisfied smirk. Your lips parted then closed. You were entirely flustered.

“Forgive me, my lady, but since you requested a formal audience I have arranged this meeting.” The king’s irises thinned as he stared. “Your father has given his blessing.”

“You…your highness,” You stuttered and your father tilted his head in warning. 

“Sit, daughter,” Your father said sternly. 

You hesitantly stepped inside. Rulf closed the door behind you. You went to the bench that sat not far from the king and sat. Both men watched you, each with their own expectations. Neither you longed to please.

“I do not mean to surprise you, I was only impatient,” The king sat as your father remained on his feet. “I trust this setting should suffice and you’ve no reason to object.”

You gulped and nodded. “Y-your highness,” You stuttered. “I…do not.”

“Forgive me but I have a pressing matter to attend to with Lord Hale. I shall leave Rulf to oversee this meeting if it suits you, your highness.”

“It suits me well,” The king didn’t bother to look at your father. 

It wasn’t difficult to guess that this farce was staged. Rulf was growing deaf and barely aware. He came when called and did as he was bid. Nothing more or less.

Your father bowed and backed out from behind his desk. As he neared the door he glanced back at you. You sent him a pleading look, he returned a cold sneer. A silent warning before he slipped out into the hall.

“Your father is a busy man.” Steven began. “A generous one, too.”

“Your highness.” You couldn’t lie to the king so you didn’t offer comment at all.

He shifted in his chair. “Did you read my letter?”

“I did.” You answered tersely.

“And you…” He searched your face. “… didn’t like it?”

“Your highness, you must understand that such a letter is untoward. You are married.”

“To a woman who despises me. Who I can only visit on the duty of such a union, yet she bears me no heirs. She offers me no reciprocity.” He leaned forward. “And so you see, I stray out of loneliness. Out of dejection.”

“It does not change that you are married and I am unwed. I must reserve myself for my future husband.” You said. “Or I haven’t much of a future at all.”

“Is it so wrong of me to desire your company? It need not be anything more than innocent? I long for a companion. For a respite from my loneliness.”

“Perhaps that is your intent but it would not be the interpretation of the court.” You insisted. “And what effect do you think it would have upon my reputation? You are a king, untouched by menial courtly intrigue but a lady, a mere daughter of an earl, could be ruined.”

“You are repulsed by me.” He sat back heavily, a pitiable expression lined his face. “You needn’t lie, my lady. I may be a king but I can take it.”

“You know that is not the reason for my reticence.” You countered.

“Then what is it?” He asked as he slapped his hand on his thigh. “Is it truly my wife? Is it Lady Rose? Perhaps it is both.” He huffed and hung his head dramatically. “You must know, they matter little to me. My queen is cold and hateful and the lady is selfish and ungiving. They bring me great pain. They torture me.”

You shook your head. “And how should I measure your words as you speak of them thus? How am I to think that if I even thought to yield to you that you would not one day feel the same of me?” You stood. “I cannot.”

He rose and came towards you. He reached out to you and his hand grazed your sleeve as you backed away. “I could never. You cannot possibly understand what you’ve done to me. I think of nothing else but you. I cannot rid myself of you no matter how I try. I think of my queen, of my obligation to her and my kingdom but you will not leave me.”

“You do not know me. You cannot feel so.” Your legs were pressed against the bench as you were trapped between him and it. “I will not betray myself nor my queen. I have never longed to be a mistress but a wife only.”

He took your hand and you resisted the urge to draw away from him. His thumb brushed over your fingers as he admired them. You trembled though you tried not to. His grip tightened suddenly.

“Perhaps you’ve never dared to long for it,” His voice was as steely as his grip. His eyes flicked up to yours. “But you will be mine. As your king, I will it.”

You tugged until he released you. Rulf cleared his throat, whether it was coincidence or discomfort, you didn’t care. The noise had the king retreating.

“I swear to you, my lady, that nothing, no one, can keep me from you.” He puffed his chest out. “And you need not fear whatever enemies arise for I will strike them down.”

“Your highness, that is not…" 

"I can be patient, for you my lady, I can wait,” He vowed. “I will wait so long as you should need me to.”

Your mouth fell open. You couldn’t guess if he was mad or maniacal. Surely his words were anything but genuine. You could barely speak.

“Your highness, you cannot.”

“I shall, I shall,” He insisted. “My queen be damned. Lady Rose too.” He declared as he turned to march to the door. He turned back and placed his hand on his chest. “None but you, my lady.”

He pulled the door open. You were dumbfounded. All you could do was bow as he departed. His boots sounded down the corridor and Rulf coughed. You looked to the aged servant as his eyes drooped. _Was he asleep on his feet?_

“My lady,” He said quietly. “I daresay he meant it.”

You lowered your head and sighed. Your father’s mole had heard it all. No doubt he’d relay it back to his master. You righted yourself and stilled your shaking hands.

“Tell my father I regret that I could not await his return but the queen should wonder at my absence.” You neared the door, your feet tentative as they traced the king’s. “Thank you, Rulf.”

“My lady,” He nodded as his eyes once more turned to slits. “I will let him know.”


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This Chapter: The court celebrates the harvest.
> 
> Warnings: eventual dark elements (tags to be added as fic continues)
> 
> This is dark!(king)Steve and explicit. 18+ only.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’m a goddamn liar and ended up writing this after work and staying up past midnight because I have a problem people. I need help but until then I’m gonna keep posting so here ya go, my lovelies.
> 
> I really hope you enjoy. 💋
> 
> <3 Let me know what you think in the comments! I'm working through my inbox as we speak! Love ya!

The week of the harvest celebration had come, though time seemed to stand still. Each day dragged on dreading the next. Anxious of what the king should do next, of how the court should roil once more, of your own part in the brewing mess. Even as the waters calmed it did not comfort you. Peace only assured you that chaos was on the horizon.

Rose continued to stew in her anger. You dared to think it was jealousy. While the king persisted in his prolonged stares during rehearsals, your partner did not ease matters as he passed along his master’s messages. Each added to the weight on your shoulders, the guilt that stabbed you each time you looked at the queen. Though you did not encourage it, you felt your part in it just as grievous.

And your father. When you met again, he did not spare a word. His disappointment, his frustration, his anger all spent upon you. Your disobedience had nearly cost him. Never mind that it kept your reputation in tact, that it gave hope to a future betrothal. He didn’t want an earl’s wife, he wanted a king’s mistress. The baubles you refused to accept, the promise of a title greater than his own father’s. You factored little in his desires outside your ability to fulfill them.

The saffron brocade was stiff across your chest, cut much lower than your usual gowns. Each woman was to wear a different shade of autumn for the performance. The king and queen would lead in goldenrod yellow as satins and silks of auburns, scarlets, and moss would swirl in. In imitation of a rush of leaves falling from the barren trees, heralding the change of seasons.

A seamstress knelt at your feet and pinned the skirts. The queen ran a finger along her throat as she considered you. It was the final fitting before the banquet; you were the last of the women to attend their measurements. 

You could barely look Eleanor in the eye. Hearsay was rife as it always was but did she believe the whispers. _Did she think the king truly enamoured by you? Did she know of the letters? The gifts he sent along with them? The ones you would not open, that were sent back untouched._

If she did, she did not betray herself. She smiled as she neared and touched the golden border along the top of the bodice. “Tighter around the waist,” She suggested to the tailor. “A half inch lower here.”

You looked down at your chest. You blinked. You really didn’t need less fabric there. As it was, your cleavage was more than noticeable. You bit your lip but did not protest.

“The colour is marvelous,” The queen looked you in the face. “Are you well, my lady?”

“I am but…” You hesitated as the seamstress pinned the bodice. “There are matters we should speak of, your highness.”

“Yes, I think there are,” She nodded and gestured to the seamstress. “If you would excuse us a moment.”

The other woman acquiesced with a bow and quickly retreated. The door closed behind her and left you alone with Eleanor. She smiled and swept away from you to sit on a cushioned bench as the pins in her ashy blonde hair caught the light. She patted the cushion next to her.

“Sit, let us talk of what worries you so.” She cooed.

“Your highness,” You approached reluctantly. “I do not think myself fit for this. I am a poor dancer.”

“You are not so bad,” She said as you sat beside her. “Heavy-footed but not entirely hopeless.”

“Hopeless enough.” You grumbled. “Especially in a place such as this.”

“I know you shall do just fine.” She smiled. “But you do not refer to only the performance, do you, lady?”

“No, no, I do not,” You looked at your lap. “Surely, you’ve heard.”

“There are no secrets at court,” She returned. “I know my husband’s attention has strayed again. I hear Lady Rose and her detest, her complaints of her neglect. And it makes me most happy.”

“But the king…”

“The king does as he wishes. I cannot stop him but I can abide it so long as I am not met with nonchalance and scorn.” She held her head high. “I can stand any mistress but none who would shame me so openly.”

“I...I have refused the king. Every time. I do not wish to involve myself in your marriage. Your highness, I admire you too much. I would never--”

“You’re a smart girl. I trust you are able enough but this court is perilous. Allies are rare but should be welcomed,” She pulled a loose string from the tail of your hood. “So long as you are...covert, I would have no reason to mind the dalliance.”

“P-pardon? Your highness, I don’t understand--”

“Do with my husband as you please. I know you, my lady. You are loyal and you will not so blatantly degrade me. If I must bear this marriage, I shall bear it with a mite of dignity.”

“I please none of it and yet he does not relent. If you are truly my ally, can you not stop him?”

“He will not relent. He never has and I’ve never been able to stop him. No one has.” She sighed and her long lashes flicked. “I do prefer you to Rose. Oh, I do very much.”

“You…” For a moment you gasped for air. The realization struck you in the chest. “You have maneuvered me thus, haven’t you? Because you knew the king would never tolerate your mistreatment of his mistress and so you thrust me before him.”

“I did not thrust you, my lady,” She smiled. “You were merely well-positioned at a most opportune moment.”

Your mouth was bitter with betrayal. The queen had seemed the only genuine character at court but in a moment, she revealed herself to be just as vile as the rest. Perhaps it was easy to pity a scorned woman but it was little excuse for the disgrace of another. You could not forgive her crime on the grounds of another done to her. You clenched your hands together as you tried not to scowl.

“And you expect me to appease him? To forfeit my virtue to him?” You stared at your skirts.

“I expect you to do as you think necessary,” She said, “But my husband gives little heed to what is necessary. To what it proper. He will take as he pleases, not as you please.”

You looked up at her. Terrified. “And you would not stop him?”

“Cannot.” She shrugged and a glimmer of regret flashed her in eyes. She pitied you. “It is not so bad. You will be taken care of after. A husband will be found, or if that does not please you, a household all your own. I swear it on my honour.”

“Your honour?” You scoffed. “You bartered me to your own husband.”

“A barter you could only dream of,” Her green eyes sharpened. “You don’t know, cannot know, what is like. To be ridiculed daily. To be tied to a man who can never love you, a court that will never accept you as their own.” She shook her head. “I did mislead you, I admit it, but only because I know you to be honest. To be without presumption. You would not bring me further shame because you fear it yourself.”

“Do you not realize that you’ve already brought shame upon me?” You stood and crossed the room. You couldn’t stand to be near her. “You are not a friend to me, my queen. I am...alone.”

Silence. You heard the rustle of her skirts but she did not near you. You turned as she reached the door. She adjusted a pin in her hair as she reached for the handle. She exhaled softly. 

“You will change so that the dress may be altered and you will go. And you will never speak to me as you have again. I am still your queen.”

👑 

The day of the harvest arrived. The feast hall was draped in golden and bronze silks as the court gathered along the trestles. The benches did not overflow as dancers hid beneath the canopy just beyond the doors, awaiting their grand entrance to the plucking of lutes and trill of flutes.

You stood quietly, head down, hands clamped together as you recited the steps in your head. You weren’t prepared. No matter how often the master led you through the steps, you’d never be ready. You weren’t a dancer and you were too distracted to retain the simple choreography. 

A shiver went up your spine as a familiar voice met your ears. The space was tight and the performers were close. Steven’s laughter boomed in the small space and you looked up. The king and queen were at the front of the procession, several pairs between you. He was drawn by your movement and grinned at you before you shied away. The queen batted her lashes and took her husband’s hand. Her response was not heard.

“You should not be so nervous,” Lord Barnes intoned. You’d forgotten his presence beside you. “You are not so tragic as you think.”

“Ever gracious but a poor liar, Lord Barnes.” You huffed. “I have noticed how you’ve padded your boots.”

He chuckled. “Of the dozen pairs among us, do you think we would stick out so sorely?”

“I hope not,” You said. “Thought I apologize if I should make fools of both of us.”

“You are much too cynical.” He stepped closer. “You deny yourself even the slightest error. How can one find any pleasure in life with such suffocating restraint?”

“As a lord who would never face consequence for his lack of, I doubt you could understand the caution of a lady.” You returned. 

“Surely not. I could never be so pious. So...boring.” He mused.

You bristled and turned your face away from him. You looked around at the other dancers as they chattered and fidgeted in their impatience. Rose snarled as she caught your eye and shrugged off Lord Alan. You blanched and tucked your chin to your chest.

“I was teasing, my lady,” Barnes leaned in. “You needn’t take it so heavily.”

“I am aware, my lord. I can understand humour, as poorly as it may be presented.” You looked to him pointedly. “I may be plain but I am not simple.”

He laughed again. He glanced around and you followed his gaze to the door. The king peered between the bodies and watched intently. You stiffened and returned your attention to your partner.

“So I’ve noticed.” Barnes said. “As has he.”

“And you, his infiltrator?” You arched a brow. “Do you recount our every word?”

“I might be a loyal companion to the crown but I am no informant. What we speak of remains between us, I swear it.” He assured you. “But I might tell you something...most intimate.”

“So you would?” You prodded.

“I’ve known Steven since we were children. I know him better than any. I know him beyond the courtly disguise he wears.” Barnes faced you and took your hand. He drew you close. “As I stand near to you, he watches, he seethes, because he is quite taken by you.” His voice was low. “And the more you refuse him, the more taken he shall be.” He raised your hand to his lips and kissed it softly. “And he has rarely been refused in his life...he will not stand for it long.”

“Is this a warning or another message?” He dropped your hand and stepped back.

The queen’s voice rose above the babble and she clapped her hands. “Lords, Ladies, we are due. Positions, please.” 

She turned and the king raised his hand for her to take. Each couple mirrored them and you took Barnes hand as he stood side by side with you. He looked to his feet and pretended to kick the dust from his toe as he spoke under his breath.

“It is both, my lady,” He whispered. “A king’s requests quickly become commands.”

👑 

“May I?” Barnes was beside you before you could flee. 

You’d hoped to cling to the wall until you could manage to sneak away. As late, you’d grown much too conspicuous for that. You turned back to him, caught in your retreat, and sighed. He was not the only to note your attempted escape. Your father sneered from his seat and the king raised his head above the queen’s as they spun along the boards.

“I wouldn’t pain you or your toes further, my lord.” You replied. 

“I can bear it,” He assured you. “And there is no other partner I wish. They’re all rather dull.”

“Dull of foot might be more painful than dull of wit.” You returned and he grinned.

“The wit does outweigh the foot, my lady,” He offered his hand. “Come on.”

Your eyes were drawn back to your father. He tilted his head dangerously. You couldn’t tell if it were to deter you from dancing or from leaving. You forced a smile and took Barnes’ hand. He guided you onto the floor lithely. His feet were swift and kept clear of your own.

“Did I mention how wonderful you look, tonight?” He marveled as you turned in time with the room. “The cut of that dress is quite complimentary.”

You kept your head high and did your best to follow the steps. “Thank you, my lord. That is kind of you to say.”

“Not so drab as that habit you wore before,” He japed. “Was it the queen who recommended the brocade?”

You stared at him. You struggled to piece together the puzzle. _Did he operate upon his own resolve? Upon the kings? Or perhaps he was just as much the pet of the queen?_ Your lips pressed together as you peeked again across the room. Both king and queen watched you as they moved their bodies gracefully to the music.

“The queen did,” You answered evenly. “She was certain to see that all her ladies were attired fittingly for the event.”

You avoided his gaze as he watched you. As you tried to decipher him, he did the same to you. Your foot came down on his but he did not flinch as he smoothly guided you along the floor. The music swirled around you with your skirts as you were led in the jig. Your head spun with the candlelight and crowd of satin and silk. He squeezed your hand and you looked to him. He smirked as the music eased to the next tune and he bowed to you. 

“My lady,” He said as he led you by your hand. 

As he turned you, you found the king waiting. You searched through the crowd, the queen was already swept up by Lord Samuel. She paid no heed to her husband’s ploy. You wondered if she were not a party to it. Lord Barnes released you and nodded to his king. “Your highness.”

“Would you allow me a dance, my lady?” The king coaxed.

You fought not to dissemble. You glanced around and found your father still watching. He leaned forward as he nodded. His hand was in a fist on the table. You didn’t dare resist. You took the king’s hand and let him lead you to the melody.

“My lady, you are more beautiful than I’ve ever seen you,” He said breathily. His eyes did not meet yours as they wandered to the top of your bodice. “I’ve found it most difficult to think of anything but you this night ...truly every night.”

“You flatter me, your highness.”

“I am honest. I bear myself to you.” He said. “And you still refuse my gifts? Still refuse me?”

“You know I cannot--”

“I know you are afraid but you haven’t reason to be. I shall protect you; from the queen, from the court. You shall be mine and I shall make certain you are kept well.” His blue eyes burned down at you. “I only long to give you everything. To give you all of me, all I ask in return is you.”

“You are married--”

“But not in love.”

“You are king and I am an earl’s daughter. Unwed and without betrothal.”

“As king, I can see to your future. I can give you title, a castle, lands…”

“So I shall lower myself to courtesan for you?”

“No, no, never. I shall raise you, my lady. Hold you in the highest esteem.”

“You shall ruin my reputation.”

“Can you not see how I suffer? My lady, you torment me so.”

“Your highness,” You stopped short and he nearly stumbled. “It cannot be. To prolong it will not change the circumstance that divides us. I do not seek infamy, I do not seek controversy, nor will I lower myself to be your mistress.”

“Lower…? I do not ask you--”

“You do. For what shall people say? What do they already whisper?” You rescinded your hand. “Your highness, you have not considered fully what you ask of me. You have not considered me.”

“I--”

“Excuse me, your highness,” You touched your stomach as it knotted. “I think I am unwell.”

He blinked, stunned. He bowed his head and you backed away from him. You readied yourself for his pursuit. For him to stop you. He did not and when he was hidden by the crowd, you turned and scurried to the door.

You didn’t slow until you reached an alcove just along the corridor. You were shaky as you leaned against the stone and caught your breath. _Would the king be upset?_ Surely your father would but you could face his wrath as you had your entire life. You recalled Barnes’ words. _Would the king cease to merely ask?_

_And who could save you?_ The king had a dozen allies and you had not one. The queen would not stop him, nor would his leal friend. Your father, surely, would find a way to assist him. Your own blood would sell you into scandal. You were so very alone.

A sole scuffed upon the stone and drew you from your reverie. A shadow loomed just around the corner and you tucked yourself into the alcove. You flattened your skirts with your hands and held your breath. The footsteps neared and you didn’t dare to move.

The king’s tall silhouette appeared before you. He walked past the alcove as he looked around. He sighed softly and hung his head. He tapped his toe as he stopped and hooked his thumbs in his belt. You watched, paralysed. 

He let out a disappointed grumble and turned back. The toe of his boot caught the hem of your skirt as it splayed out from your hiding spot and he stopped. He looked over and his eyes met yours in the dim of the lanterns. They pierced you through the shadows and his lips curved.

“My lady,” He greeted, “Why do you run from me?” He stepped forward. “Hide from me?” He lowered himself to his knees as he reached for your hands. “Can’t you see how desperate I am? How I am completely at your mercy?”

“Your highness, please,” You begged as he gripped your hands tightly. “Please, this is indecent.”

“My lady,” He brought your hands to his lips and laid a dozen kisses upon them. “I cannot wait. I’ve never waited so long and it pains me deeply. Every second I am away from you, I cannot think. I cannot live.”

“Your highness,” Your voice was coarse as you tried to escape his hold. “You would tarnish me.”

He released your hands and you tried to brush past him. He caught you around the waist and pulled you against him. He pressed his face to your stomach and kissed the taut brocade. He nuzzled into you and raised his chin to look up at you over your bosom. You caught his shoulders as you struggled with him.

“Please, please…” You could barely speak. You were terrified at his strength, at how easily he held you there. He walked forward on his knees as he pushed you back into the alcove until you met the wall. “Please…”

He dropped his arms and you felt your skirts lift and you sobbed. He lowered his head as he tugged at your skirts and you felt the cool air on your ankles. He bent and you pressed yourself to the wall. You could barely breathe as you watched him. He lowered himself until his lips met your slippers. He kissed both and sat back on his heels.

“Can’t you see, my lady?” He peered up at you. “You have me on my knees?” He bent to kiss them again. “I am yours.” He declared as he sat up once more. “Entirely yours.”

You clasped your hands before your chest. You were trembling. You could not speak as you stared down at him. He let your skirt fall back into place as he stood. His shadow enshrined you as he reached out to touch your cheek.

“Are you afraid, my lady?”

You nodded and turned away from his touch.

“You needn’t be for I shall find a way for us to be together. A proper way.” His fingers trailed down and he dragged his thumb along your lower lip. “I promise you, I will.”

For a moment, he held your face. His hand firmly cradled your chin and he leaned in until his breath was upon your lips. His thumb traced your lips and he closed his eyes. He let out a long sigh and pulled away from you suddenly.

“I will wait,” He said, though he spoke more to himself than you. “I will wait.” He opened his eyes and bowed to you. “My lady.” 

You watched him back away, too stunned to move as his shadow faded down the hall and his footsteps softened to silence. You cowered in the stone alcove until you were certain he was gone. At last, you found your strength and stepped into the amber light of the lanterns. 

Lord Barnes’ foreboding rang in your head; ‘A king’s requests quickly become commands.’


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This Chapter: Tension comes to a head.
> 
> Warnings: eventual dark elements (tags to be added as fic continues)
> 
> This is dark!(king)Steve and explicit. 18+ only.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter 6. Gotta go to work again so enjoy this while I suffer retail torment. It’s getting intense in here and the more I write the more I realize we’re just traversing deeper into messiness over her. But this is what you get.
> 
> I really hope you enjoy. 💋
> 
> <3 Let me know what you think in the comments! Love ya!

Your father appeared shortly after. You were thankful to be kept from the presence of the queen so soon, though you would have to trade it for that of the king. Your father informed you of the royal request of your presence. His demeanour gave you worry. He was as close to joyful as you had ever seen him. His happiness rarely meant yours.

“Now, I remind you daughter, to remember your manners. I paid far too much gold on your training to have it wasted.” He said as he walked with you down the corridor. “The king has pursued his fancy you, see that it does not end so suddenly as it began.”

“Yes, father.” You replied meekly.

“I mean it.” He stopped short and seized your arm. He turned you to face him. “You did not mind my first order, I know it. But you will not disobey me again and you certainly won’t defy the king.” He smiled and let go. “You will be mindful during this meeting. Do not slight me before him.”

“Yes, father.” You repeated.

He turned and carried on. It took a moment for you to catch your step. He strode along proudly and beamed as he came upon the king’s door. _How long had your father dreamed of royal favour?_ So long he would trade anything for it.

The guards greeted him with a nod and the one at your left knocked with his elbow. Hugh opened the door as he had the last time you were there. He looked between you and your father. His eyes lingered on you. You lowered your head and kept quiet.

“The king has requested an audience. Lord Willis of Malford.” Your father announced.

The footman nodded and the door stayed open as he retreated. He appeared again and waved you within. You lifted your head and followed your father. Inside, the king sat a large oaken desk decorated with gold gilt. He stood as he saw you.

“Lord Willis,” The king greeted your father with a nod as he rounded the desk. “My lady.”

He took your hand and kissed it. Your father raised his brow sharply and you curtsied. The king stood and his eyes clung to you as his hand did. He turned and guided you toward his desk.

“You may sit, my lord,” He said as he led you to one of the cushioned chairs. “My lady, please.”

You sat and he released you wistfully. He did not resume his seat but instead leaned against the front of his desk. Your father sat in another chair with a grin.

“Your highness.” Your father relished the words on his tongue.

“My lord,” The king began. “I have called this audience with you to discuss a grievous plight.” He paused, a forlorn shadow upon him. “You see, I am taken by your daughter, so wholly and so deeply, and yet I understand you would protect her virtue, as she does so piously.”

He spoke with a feeling so overt it could only be farce. You shifted in the chair.

“And I would not tarnish her. Could not for I admire her too much, but it pains me. I cannot be without her, I cannot.”

Your father blinked and pretended at surprise. Your mouth was dry.

“Any lord brings his daughter to court in hopes of seeing her wed well. Seeing her off to a life of comfort and I would not take that from her. And again, I find esteem in her as she is so diligent, so loyal a daughter to you. So I would spare her reputation and your own and would propose a compromise.”

The king touched his chest as if he was in pain.

“And I realize this is unprecedented and not entirely proper but I have thought on it endlessly. I would offer you a fine betrothal for your daughter, to see her married, to see her protected. An arrangement so that we may keep our feelings secret; so that none would decry your name.”

“A betrothal?” You father sat up. “To who?”

“A duke.” The king looked to you. “Lord Barnes. He is a fair match for any lady in the kingdom and without.”

Your father feigned thought as he held his chin. “You believe this would serve my daughter as well as it would you?”

“If I could, I would find another way,” The king mourned. “If I were not already constrained, I would see to her a proper union. But alas…”

“Whosoever I shall marry will know me to be a loyal wife.” You declared evenly. “I would adhere to any vow I give, be it to Lord Barnes or another.”

The king turned to you slowly. “None would know. My lady, that is the purpose of the union. You will have title, land, and name. And while I cannot make you my queen, I will make you most happy. None will be given to any other; not Eleanor, not Rose, not any other but you. And you would be bound to Lord Barnes in law only.”

“It is wrong. Deceitful.” You protested. “A mistress all the same.”

The king’s nostrils flared and he sighed. He turned his broad shoulders to you and paced before your father. He spun and slammed his fist on the desk. “Enough, woman.” You flinched at his tone. He paused and gritted his teeth. “Lord Willis, Hugh, if you would… leave us for a moment.”

“Your highness, I must have a chaperone--”

“You must obey your king.” He growled and looked to the other men.

Your father rose with a mumble abeyance and Hugh followed him to the door. You peeked over your shoulder as they left. You gripped the arms of the chair as the door closed and left you alone.

“I...am sorry--” You began breathlessly.

“No, I am,” The king’s voice was softer. “I am sorry for my temper. I did not mean to frighten you. It is only, I am so enraptured by you that I cannot think of not having you. And yet you spurn me. You would spurn my offer of absolution. Can you not see how you have affected me and yet you sit here stoic and unfeeling?”

“I am not unfeeling, I only know that circumstance does not always allow the fulfillment of our desires. There can be no way around it, your highness. Fate would have it otherwise.”

“Desires?” He stood before you. “You...desire me?”

You stared up at him. You gulped. Your lip trembled but you could not speak.

“I understand you are afraid to admit it, I understand your caution, which is why I propose the union. So that you need not be afraid, my lady.”

“I…I could never betray the queen. You must understand, she will know.”

“The queen? Is that what she is? She shows her king no love and bears me no heirs. I wonder if she is truly that.” He bemoaned and slowly backed away. He sat heavily in the chair your father had formerly occupied. “She’s never loved me.”

“But she is your wife.” You insisted. “By law and by heaven’s grace.”

He was silent a moment. He looked to you and his blue eyes searched yours. He dropped his shoulders and his head.

“And yet I wonder if that is the truth. If our union was ever truly sanctified.” He pushed his hair back as he lifted his head. “She was bound to another before me. A betrothal to a prince in the east. He did protest our marriage but it was overruled.”

“An expired betrothal, your highness.” You assured. “Consecrated by the lord.”

“I don’t know if it is. I think on it often. Of how she neglects me. Of how she must think of her former eastern fiance. They were children together. They knew each other for years. I suspect...oh, but these are things I’ve never dared to say aloud.”

“But it was overruled. The former betrothal nullified and the new one blessed by the see.”

“It is a cursed union and now you would have it that I suffer more. That I am tortured by your denial.” He exhaled and slowly he sat up. He pushed himself to his feet and neared you again. “I swore to you I would find a way. I will have you.” He reached down and took your hand. He tugged until your were forced to stand. “If you will not marry Barnes, you will marry me. By my will, it shall be done.”

“You cannot--”

“Cannot!” He drew you close until his arm was around you. “I am a king, I can do as I choose.” He leaned in and spoke quietly. “If I wanted to tear that bodice off and bend you over this desk, I could, with your father at the door.” His lips grazed your ear as he held you to him. “But we will do it as you wish, my lady.”

👑 

You were bent over the tapestry among the other women. Each focused on their rosettes as they added to the field of blooms. It was peculiarly silent. Even the queen was deeply enthralled by her work. It was as if everyone had tired of courtly intrigue. To sit and not think for a while was a true respite.

Since the harvest celebration, rumours flew anew, many with your name attached. You did your best to ignore them, along with the king’s gaze and his incessant letters. You hoped that you could deter him with distance. Keep aloof and he may just forget his ideas of annulment.

Every time you thought of your audience with him, your chest tightened. You looked at the queen, a scarlet hood over her pale hair. He was as trustworthy as she was. These royals were entirely conceited. They’d never known any different; had never been deprived of any want.

You lowered your head and wove your needle carefully around your finger. You mourned your former regard for her. The sense that she was a secret companion amid the chaos. She always watched over her ladies so closely, never begrudged them without reason. Or so you’d believed.

As you were about to secure your rosette, there was tug on the tapestry. You looked in the direction of the pull and met with a pair of vicious blue eyes. Rose sneered as she sat on the other side of Joan. There was no place among the ladies you could sit without an enemy upon your flank.

“My apologies,” She said with a smirk. “My needle was caught.”

“Not at all,” You said stiffly and pointed your needle once more at the middle of your rosette. Another yank. This one nearly had half the cloth upon the floor. You looked to her again along with several other women.

“Of course it wouldn’t bother you to take from another, would it? Hmm? To wrestle it away without a single thought?” She leaned in and hissed. “Then to act the innocent in all of it.”

You shook your head and freed your needle from the where it had poked into the fabric.

“A simple diversion, that’s all you are,” She kept her voice low. “He’ll come back to me, I know. A homely mouse like you cannot keep him.”

“I have no desire of him,” You spat under your breath. “So save yourself the shame and let me be.”

“I know your trick. You think you can snare him by acting coy. By acting as if you don’t want him. Every lady wants him.” She was almost upon Joan’s lap as she snarled. “Your father no doubt wants him as much, hmm? A daughter with royal preference; a blessing for any earl.”

“Lady Rose, would you kindly be quiet?” You snapped. “Perhaps you should focus on your work so that your hands may be as sharp as your tongue.”

“Ladies,” The queen’s voice cut through the rising tension. You glanced over at her guiltily though Rose showed little remorse. “Let us remind ourselves of decorum. This is a sewing circle, not a common tavern.”

You bowed your head repentantly and concentrated on your needle. Rose huffed and dropped her edge of the tapestry. She sat with her hands folded. “My fingers begin to cramp from this tedious work, your highness.”

“Then you may sit in silence or excuse yourself. You’ve disturbed this court enough.” The queen retorted. 

Rose scoffed and looked around the circle of women. “No wonder the king cannot stand you.”

“Pardon me, girl,” The queen growled.

“How could he ever lay with you long enough to beget a child? Or perhaps you are too frigid to for any life to grow.” Rose said as she stood. “For it surely is not the king who lacks.”

“Lady Rose, I will not warn you again. You gird your tongue.” Eleanor released the tapestry and got to her feet. “If you insist on causing a disturbance, you can leave this room and this court. I think we’re all quite done with you.”

“Are we?” Rose narrowed her eyes. Her hand slipped across her middle as she pressed her palm to her stomach. “I doubt the king would see his bastard out in the cold.”

Eleanor paled and the chamber grew stifling. It was as if the collective breath was stolen from each lady. You watched with the rest as the woman faced each other like wild felines.

“You really are pathetic. To lie of such a thing.” The queen accused.

Rose laughed. It was poisonous. It assured all of her honesty. “We shall see who is lying soon enough. When I begin to grow and you remain unchanged. Barren as the witch you are.”

“Go,” The queen’s tone was acidic. “Now.”

Rose lowered her lashes and slowly turned away. She neared the door and as she reached for the handle, a knock sounded. The sound broke through the silence and the women whispered in confusion. The timing of a visitor couldn’t have been worse.

Rose opened the door slowly. The man at the door seemed not to notice the mood. He greeted Lady Rose and then bowed to the queen. His blue eyes sparkled as he awaited an invitation.

“Lord Barnes,” Eleanor greeted. “It is a most unexpected visit.”

“It is, your highness,” He stepped inside as Rose held the door. She watched him in confusion as he barely seemed to notice her. “A brief one. I come,” He grinned as he looked around the room, “Simply bearing a message.”

“I shall receive it, my lord, but as you can see, I am occupied with my ladies.” The queen smiled graciously.

“I do not bear a message for you,” Barnes returned. His tone was even, unemotional. “But I promise, it will be brief.”

He caught your eye as he found you amid the circle. You frowned and clung to the tapestry, tempted to pull it over your head and hide. He crossed to you and got to one knee. For a moment, you recalled the king in a similar pose. You shook your head at him as he pulled forth a small box.

“For you, lady,” He held it out as you turned on the bench. “From King Steven.”

Gasps, whispers, hisses. All rose in a flurry of disgust. Rose let out a growl and her slippers stomped from the room. The door fell closed behind her, a frightful clatter in her stead.

“No. I--” You looked to the queen. She looked concerned. The king had never been so overt. So outright in his attentions as to intrude upon her ladies thus. “I cannot accept.”

“I have orders not to leave until you do.” Barnes insisted. “And I have ever been a faithful servant to my king.”

“Don’t do this,” You whispered. “Please.”

“Do not be ungrateful, lady,” Eleanor’s voice was brittle. “You are the most obedient subject.”

You looked between the queen and the lord knelt before you. A dozen pairs of eyes glared at you; judged you; assumed the worst in you. They had all heard Rose’s words and they believed them. For a woman who had committed the same sin must be the most adept to see it in another. 

You stared at Lord Barnes and your eyes felt as if they would water. You reached out shakily and he nodded. He did not smile, only waited patiently. He understood what his task was; not just to deliver a gift, but to send the queen a message too. The king would not hide anymore. Her ploy had failed for now she faced worse humiliation than before. And it did not matter that it was Rose or you, only that it was.

“You…” You swallowed and found your voice. “You may tell the king that I thank him. That I am most grateful for the kind gesture, my lord.”

“You must open it,” Barnes urged. “I am to...return to him your thoughts upon it.”

“Oh Lord, just be done with it,” Eleanor seethed and turned her back. “And the rest of you ladies can go. Follow that harlot back to your chambers.”

You lowered your head. You opened the box to reveal a polished opal on a golden chain. Your lips parted and you forced a smile as you stood. Lord Barnes returned to his feet as you cradled the box in your hands. The ladies tarried as they folded up the tapestry and began to shuffle to the door.

You looked into his eyes. He blinked. He knew you would say what was expected. 

“You may tell him it is very beautiful.” You closed the box. “That I like it very much.”

“I shall let him know,” Barnes bowed his head and made his retreat.

You didn’t dare look back as you followed the other ladies to the door. You passed through into the corridor and walked numbly along as the other kept as far from you as they could. The box felt heavy though it weighed almost nothing. You could have tossed it against the wall but you held your composure and squeezed it until it felt as if it would crumple.


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The pieces are moved further across the board.
> 
> Warnings: eventual dark elements (tags to be added as fic continues)
> 
> This is dark!(king)Steve and explicit. 18+ only.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It’s a slightly shorter chapter but I’m hoping the next chapter turns out how I envision it. I work close so I’ll get a little longer before work to figure that out but thank you all for reading and following this series.
> 
> I really hope you enjoy. 💋 You guys rock!
> 
> <3 Let me know what you think with a comment! Love ya!

You tucked the necklace away and didn’t touch it; couldn’t even look at it. Joan and Sybil ignored you as Marion sent you sympathetic looks. You felt terribly. Rose hadn’t been the nicest but she had been just as humiliated as the queen. And perhaps Eleanor had her own machinations but she didn’t deserve that shame. First a bastard followed by a public betrayal. 

You barely slept. You couldn’t stop thinking of the scene in the queen’s receiving chamber. The king was growing desperate, you assured yourself, impatient, and he was only trying to lure you into his arms. His promises of adoration, honours, and even marriage were empty. You knew that by the treatment of the other women. 

_How easily would he be done with you should you succumb to him?_

The morning brought a headache and a knot in your chest. You readied and went with the other women to morning prayers. Your meal was taken without the queen. She was supping with her husband, it was reported, although many whispered at the veracity of the excuse. As they did, they looked to you and you stared at your plate. Rose was absent as well.

Marion sat with you. She was your only steadfast companion and only passively so. Her tolerance was kindness compared to the distaste of the other women. You wondered how Rose had bore it with a smile but you never recalled her facing such hostility. In fact, her giggling accounts of her and the king’s trysts were favoured tales.

You didn’t eat much. You were silent and walked with the other ladies back to your chambers. As you came upon them, a woman with hair the colour of straw and pock scars upon her cheeks stood at the door. A loud sobbing was muffled from behind the next. Rose’s despair was rampant and outright.

Again, several glares, each cut you deep. The yellow-haired woman stepped forward and curtsied. Her brown dress and white apron denoted her servitude. Her eyes searched among the ladies though she couldn’t choose where to keep them. Your name slipped from her lips; a question.

The ladies parted as they sneered at you. You stepped forward and kept your head high. “It is me you seek.”

“My lady,” She gave a crooked smile. “I am Marge. The king has sent me to serve you. To help you ready for your things.”

“My things?” You asked. “What do you mean?”

“Your chambers have been arranged. The king has seen to them and I am to be your chambermaid.”

“Chambers? Why, I am a lady without title or marriage, I should remain as I am.” You protested. “I’d rather you return to the king and seek reassignment.”

“My lady, I have strict orders to see you to your new chambers.” She insisted and her eyes flicked along the line of ladies. “And to attend whatever needs you should have.”

You sighed and resisted the urge to glance at the other ladies. You could feel them watching you. “I haven’t much,” You relented. “It shouldn’t take very long.”

“My lady,” She dipped her head. “There will be men soon to help carry your trunks.”

“It is just the one.” You assured her. “Not very much at all.”

Marion opened the door and you followed her within. Marge waited for the other ladies to enter before she followed. She trailed you to your bed and you opened your trunk. You packed away the book and the handkerchief you had left on your pillow. She helped you buckle it shut.

“Good riddance,” You heard Joan’s whispered as she sat on her bed and watched. You looked up at her . You were tiring of the poorly-hidden scorn. The cowardice snipes beneath one’s breath.

“Yes, good riddance,” You said. She flinched as if you’d struck her. 

Two men in servant’s garb appeared in the open door. One knocked on the frame and they bowed as you looked to them. 

“My lady.” They nodded to you. “Marge, we’ve come to help.”

“Just this one,” Marge pointed to the large chest. 

“Might I…” Marion’s voice distracted you as the men entered and stood on either end of the trunk. “Might I come along and help you settle in?”

Your lips parted. You looked at the other ladies again. Joan avoided your gaze and Sybil watched the servants. “You would do that?”

“If you’d have me,” She offered. “It will be…different without you here.”

“Yes, I would love it if you came along, Marion,” You smiled. “Though I suspect I needn’t very much help.”

“Even so,” She replied. “I think I will miss you.”

👑

The chambers were much larger than those you shared with the other ladies. There was a spacious receiving chamber with a tall fireplace and a round table painted with vined fruit. There was a sofa just on the other side of it and ornaments lined the mantle and a small table near the window. There were velvet chairs sat before the hearth and tapestries kept the room from growing frigid.

The bedroom was just as luxurious. The bed was draped in deep red linens and a screen separated the vanity and the armoire. Tall windows lined the wall on the other side of the bed and a smaller hearth faced the bed. Another door opened into a privy. Your father would be envious.

You felt out of place as Marge began to unpack your gowns into the wardrobe. You only had half a dozen and a few sleeping gowns. Your father couldn’t afford much more and you altered them often to keep them fashionable. You fidgeted with your sleeve as you retreated back to the receiving chamber where Marion marveled at the painting of the king just above the fire.

“I think the king is in love with you,” She mused as she turned around. “Do you think so?”

“Is that what you think?” You crossed the room and sat lightly on the sofa. “When he disdains his queen and has disposed of Rose so swiftly.”

Her brows drew together. She neared and sat on the other end of the sofa. “Do you not think him genuine?”

“I think he is a man who is rarely deprived. I think it is more about the pursuit than the prize.” You wrung your hands as you kept your voice low. “I have not encouraged him, I have not done anything but refuse him.”

“But… every lady at court longs to be in your place.” She insisted.

“I have seen his habit and I believe myself no better than my predecessors. If…when he gets what he wants he will be done with me just as quickly.” You frowned. “I am not a fool. But my father is. He is intent upon my snaring the king.”

Marion blinked in surprise.

“Oh, I should not have said that. You will tell the others, won’t you?”

“Why would I do that?” She asked. “They are jealous, that is all. I mean, they all fawned over Rose and she made certain we all knew of her relations with the king. So far as we know, you’ve barely even smiled in his direction.”

“Yes, but in a place like this, imagination means more than reality.” You bemoaned. “Do you really not hate me as they do?”

“They do not hate you, they hate that they are not you.” She assured you. “If anything, they hate the king for how he has treated Rose. And the queen, to some extent. It reminds us all of our position as women. Of how tenuous it is.”

“Why, Marion, I thought you said you weren’t one for such bleak thoughts.”

“I wasn’t.” She gave a soft smile; behind it, pity. “You’ve not heard what happened with Rose?”

“The child?” You wondered. 

“Half the court knows of the child.” She waved her fingers lightly, “My brother was among the men with the king the day after the scene with Queen Eleanor. Rose’s father marched her into the king’s receiving chamber, he was livid. Not with his daughter even, but the king. Can you fathom that?”

“Sadly,” You replied. “If she truly carries a bastard, she has no hope of a marriage.”

“Well, that’s it. Her father accused the king of defiling Rose but the king would not stand for it. He said, in front of all his men, ‘When your daughter came to my bed, she was no maiden, and I doubt my bed strengthened her chastity.’” Marion was almost whispering as she leaned close. “My brother said he could barely breathe. It was completely silent. No one knew what to say and Rose just ran out in tears.”

“Oh, poor thing,” You touched your throat. 

“You pity her?”

“How can I not? One day, I might find myself in the same circumstance, if not worse.”

Marion nodded and glanced around the chamber. Shadows struck her face sharply as she looked to you grimly. “I suppose you are envious of us then? How funny it is to think.”

“More than you know,” You leaned back. Your sleeve was fraying from your endless picking at the delicate cuff. “I am trapped. The more I say no, the more persistent the king grows, but if I say yes then I am surely doomed.”

👑

Your first night in your new chambers was the most lonely you’d ever known. You wished you had accepted Marge’s offer for her to stay, but you’d sent the servant away out of paranoia. You weren’t completely convinced she was not sent to report your every word back to the king. 

You were as wakeful as you had been of late. The dark was desolate and the morning held little promise. The walls around you were the embodiment of those which had risen between you and the court. 

You eventually dozed in spurts. When the dawn bloomed through the curtains and the ache of your head kept you awake, you rose. Marge arrived as if she sensed your consciousness. She helped you wash and dress and pulled the moss green hood over your hair as you sat before the mirror.

You wondered at your reflection. _How could you have driven the king to such madness?_ Perhaps you were not so plain as you thought. Or perhaps you were. 

You were reluctant to leave and so you paced your receiving chamber. The queen would only find so many excuses for her absence and besides, she was not the type to hide for long. And neither were you. 

_And Rose? Would she ever appear again?_ Well, if she did, you expected she would not be any nicer than before.

You had almost found your courage when the knock came. When you were brought to a sudden halt to look at Marge. She diligently went to the door. She didn’t notice the fearful look you sent her way. You didn’t have time to wonder who would visit. You suspected the king as the hinges whined.

The queen stood in the doorway. She was accompanied by a guard as she always was when she traversed the castle. She did not await an invitation but swept inside with a wish of her skirts. The beaded azure silk flowed like an ocean around her slender figure. Her eyes were discerning as she took account of your chambers.

“So it is true.” She began. “He has lodged you for his pleasure.”

“Your highness, I tried to re–”

“You have done very well for someone who has tried to resist.” She neared the mantle over the hearth and looked up at the portrait of her husband. He had been younger when he posed for it. “He was prince then. This was the painting they sent when they offered the contract between us. I thought he was so handsome I accepted and insisted on bring the portrait with me.”

She paused as she reached up to trace her fingers along the frame.

“At first, it was a comfort. I thought, when he was kept away from me, too busy with his court and kingly duties, that he’d still be there. I could look over and see him. I was young, like you, and just as naive ” 

She laughed sourly. “Then I could bear to look at it no longer. The first mistress I forgave, even the second, but when there are too many to keep count, your worth becomes apparent. And so you take down the painting and store it away to be shrouded in dust…along with your heart.”

“I didn’t ask for it–”

“You should’ve played along. I would’ve seen you retired away from court in a nice country house. A castle on the moors. But now, when he tires of you, I shall let him cast you out.” She turned to face you. “For you have shamed me worse than any.”

“I did not–”

“I did not come to converse. I came for you to listen.” She hissed. “For you may act coy with my husband, play with him as you do, and he may prop you up until he can get what he wants, but I am still his queen. I have the crown, the throne, and by rite, I have him.”

You stared at her. You inhaled and nodded. You realized, there was nothing you could say. There was nothing you could think of to say. And so you were silent as you were so many times before, only this time, you were more than the girl along the wall.

“I can drag you down further than the king can lift you higher. Understand that. You are an earl’s daughter, a second daughter at that. I was born a princess, raised to be a queen. You will never be me. You _can_ never.” 

In her anger she looked so unlike herself that she was monstrous. Her words were more so and cut you deep. You reeled and caught the chair beside you. You closed your eyes and breathed. Again the anger rose; so unfamiliar. Years of being unheard boiled within.

“I never wanted this.” You opened your eyes. “I told you I didn’t but you persisted because you thought to topple Lady Rose. You thought to play your hand and drew the low card. You’ve done this to both of us and it cannot be undone.”

She shook her head and scoffed. “You are just the same as all the rest, my lady.” She neared the table and ran her fingertips along the painted top. “You must enjoy these chambers while you remain here,” She rescinded her hand and retreated. “For you will never know any so fine when you are through.”

“I understand why you blame me but know that I do not blame you. Not even for your hate, for your scorn. For you have a right to it. You should be angry; you should hate him, hate me even, but you can content yourself in knowing that you have already ravaged my life completely.” You stood straight and crossed your arms. “But you may just have doomed yourself along with me.”

Her lips parted as if to retort. Her green eyes held yours for a moment before she turned away. She motioned to her guard and Marge opened the door. She stopped as she reached the door frame and her long fingers rested on the wood. 

“Good. So you will know the same pain I have.” Those were her last words before she swept out into the corridor.

The jingle of her guards mail and the padding of her slippers were muffled as Marge shut the door. The servant’s face was beet red as she avoided your gaze. You dropped your arms and stepped around the chair to sit.

“You needn’t remain, Marge. I shall not bind you to me and I have lived many years without a maid.” You said softly. “You have my leave, should you want it.”

“I should not.” Her tone was firm. “For I agreed to tend to you in whatever you need and right now, you would seem to need a friend.”


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This Chapter: The reader attends the royal hunt.
> 
> Warnings: eventual dark elements (tags to be added as fic continues)
> 
> This is dark!(king)Steve and explicit. 18+ only.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Um, so I wrote half this at work because fuck customers lol. But I hope you all enjoy a change in scenery in this one. I had fun with it :) I’m going to try to keep writing as much as I can but I might take a day or two to chill. But who knows. No promises either way. :)
> 
> (also open to new moodboards for the fic or even playlists for inspo if anyone’s interested. (submit through my tumblr @darkficsyouneveraskedfor or to theimaginesyouneveraskedfor@gmail.com)
> 
> I really hope you enjoy. 💋 You guys rock!
> 
> <3 Let me know what you think with a comment! Love ya!

The air smelled of horsehair and dying leaves. It was the last hunt of the season as the dirt threatened to turn to ice. You were among the dozen that formed the royal party. Only a selection of lords and ladies were invited annually to partake in the event. Half as many servants followed the royal party to tend to thirsts and to carry the prizes of the hunt back to the castle. 

King Steven rode at the head of his lords, James, Samuel, Anthony, Callum, and your sister’s recently returned husband, Edward. They led the party. You kept to the rear, careful to avoid Eleanor as Diana and Mabel rode at her flanks. Ahead of you, trode Beatrice and Joan. The queen gathered her former enemies as new allies.

Your invitation to the hunt had not been issued by the queen. The king insisted you ride in your sister’s place as her husband took his among his entourage. Alice remained in her marital home, recovering still from her labour and tending to her newborn. You mourned Edward’s return, having hoped instead for that of your mother. She chose to keep your sister company in her early motherhood as you were left to traverse the treacherous court upon your own.

The feel of the horse beneath you gave you resolve. It reminded you of your childhood and the mares in your father’s barn. You would ride them across the fields as you chased Alice through the grass. You could hear her laughter as you trotted along, your eyes drawn to the trees around you.

You sensed a shift in the procession. You looked up as a horse turned away from the pack and shuffled around to you. Lord Barnes reined in next to you as you were drawn from your detachment. Mabel and Joan peeked over their shoulders as he fell into step with your steed.

“You are quiet, my lady,” He said. The king’s laughter boomed from the head of the hunting party as the women’s voices provided a buzzing undertone. “And pensive. As is your habit, but I wonder how one can be so on a day such as this.”

You looked to him and reached to adjust the cloak around your shoulders, the leather rein wrapped around your other hand. He watched your gloved fingers as they tugged your hood straight around your neck.

“I am not much for hunting.” You replied. “Rather, inexperienced I should think.”

“Ah, but you ride well.” His eyes strayed for just a moment to your hips as they rocked atop the horse. “And more confidently than most ladies.”

“I did not say I could not ride, only that I did not hunt,” You assured him. “My father had a falconry but the birds didn’t catch more than vermin.”

He thought for a moment as he faced forward. You followed his attention to the front of the party. The king peered over his shoulder and smiled as you caught his eye. You lowered your head meekly and reached to pet the dark mane of the horse as it nickered. Your energy unsettled the beast and you found it difficult to calm him.

“Ah, but our king is quite the hunter.” Barnes mused. “He does enjoy the chase.”

You looked to Barnes again. You hated how he spoke in quips but his words seemed more honest than most.

“And does he ever show mercy on his prey?” You asked.

“None that I’ve ever seen. Once his game is in sight, its fate is assured.” He raised his chin as he kept his eyes ahead. “But not every hunt is as abundant as the harvest.”

“And you would aid your king in his pursuit? See that he has a skin to hang upon his wall?” Your horse twitched restlessly as you pressed your thighs to your saddle.

“He needn’t my help, lady,” Barnes smiled. 

“Certainly not ...so I wonder why it is you would see to me if not on his behalf? If you do not set the snare so that he may strike?”

He laughed and looked to you. Several other heads turned at his deep chuckle but he didn’t seem to mind. “I may be the king’s most loyal subject but he does not reign over me so completely.” He said. “I see to you, lady, as I intend to. You are clever despite your reticence and far more interesting than those who would boast of their novelty.”

“I cannot figure if you flatter or mock me, my lord,” You returned. “Though I cannot figure which I’d prefer.”

He laughed again, so loud that it filled the forest. The king looked back and you pretended not to notice. Your horse flinched at the noise and you gripped the reins tightly.

“For a tongue so rarely used, it is rather sharp,” He bowed his head at Steven and the several ladies who peeked in his direction. “Yes, I do see to you upon my own accord for I am rarely left unamused, you see? And this place does grow rather mundane.”

“I long for the mundane,” You mourned. “Simplicity. Peace.”

“Then you should’ve remained in the countryside, my lady.”

You stared at him a moment and weighed his words. He didn’t seem to notice as he steered his horse after the party. You thought of your father’s castle, the snows that would fall there days before they reached the capital. You longed to be there to watch the first deluge. To be hidden away and safe. He was right, you should have remained.

“Do not grieve it just yet, my lady.” He spoke, and though the voices of the other lords and ladies continued, it felt as if he had cracked a sacred reserve. “You may return again one day. One can never know what fate holds for us.” He straightened in his saddle and bowed his head. “Enjoy the hunt, lady. It can be fun if one can forget their fears.”

He pulled away from you. You muttered after him, “my lord” and watched him direct his horse back to the head of the entourage. You mulled his words as your horse snorted loudly. You bent to coax the beast as you sensed its nervousness mingle with your own. 

A sudden hush went over the party. You looked up as the king’s gloved hand rose above him to signal silence. Hooves stilled as the king reached for his crossbow and gestured to Lord Barnes. The other men drew their weapons but did not advance. They allowed their monarch his pursuit and watched as he went forward.

You leaned over to looked around the bodies ahead of you. You spied the antlers of a great stag in the clearing just past the line of trees. There was a stillness in the air. The shadow of death settled around you as the king edged his horse forward. The reverence and tension of the slaughter hung over you as you watched the king aim the bow.

You closed your eyes as the string loosed noisily. You heard the sharp scuffle of feet, the pained whine of the stag, and the final grisly collapse of its body into the dirt. The king’s boots crunched as they met the dirt and the last desperate breaths of the animal filled the air. The draw of steel whispered and the stag was still.

You opened your eyes and your horse stamped its foot. You shook as you squeezed the reins in your hand. You swayed as the nervous animal below you continued to kick impatiently.

Lord Barnes helped the king lift the stag and carry it towards the lords and ladies. The lords parted and the ladies did to as they surrounded the men and their felled game. You could barely look at the stag and instead stared at the dirt.

“As is tradition of the last hunt,” The king said as he held the beasts head up by it’s antler. “I shall present this fine beast to the finest lady of the hunt.” The queen sat up in her saddle and her ladies looked to her. “And I shall name her the Maiden of the Forest.”

Steven turned to you. He pulled on the beast until Barnes followed and stopped before your huffing horse. The queen let out a dark breath and the lords and ladies shared a moment of shock. For all his slights, the king had never been so outright; never so blatantly spat upon the mantle of custom. He kept his dalliances aside as he paid homage to his royal union. He didn’t so much as acknowledge Eleanor on this day.

“My lady, I present to you this stag. A symbol not only of your dignity and grace, but of my regard for you.” He declared loudly so that all could hear. 

Barnes lowered his head but you could not see if he hid his shame or delight. You looked to Eleanor. She scowled but would not meet your eye. Your horse twitched again and jolted you.

“Your highness,” You began as you reared in your horse. “I am honoured by your present but I should think it belongs to another.”

“You are far too humble,” Steven insisted. “And I know of no other who are owed it more than yourself, my lady.”

You looked down at him. He stared back boldly. _Did you dare argue with a king before his retinue?_ Edward would surely report back to your father if the story did not persist at court. You smiled as graciously as you could and bowed your head.

“Thank you, your highness,” You said. “You are a most generous liege.”

“And you,” He dropped the stags head and neared the side of your horse. He grabbed the horse’s bit as it shied away from him. “Are the most good-hearted woman I’ve known.” He smiled up at you before he turned away and threw his arms out. “To our Maiden of the Forest!”

“To the Maiden!” The lords sang back but the ladies remained silent.

“And as our Maiden of the Forest, my lady,” Steven spun back to you as servants rushed forward to take the stag from Barnes. “You must head our party...at my side.”

Another silence. This one so deep it felt almost as if the birds had stopped chirping and all life hidden in the trees had ceased. Your drew up straight in your saddle and avoided the glares.

“As you wish, your highness.”

👑 

You could feel the gazes of the party behind you. The queen’s unwavering spite, the ladies’ mounting jealousy, and the lords’ general apathetic curiosity. Your horse sensed it too and grew increasingly jumpy. You struggled to keep your composure and that of your mount.

“My lady, I did not have a chance to visit your new chambers,” The king began and you tore your attention from the dark neck of the horse. “My apologies, but I’ve been most busy.”

“Why, your highness,” You said evenly. “I’ve not even the grace to thank you for such generosity. It is quite too much, I assure you. I needn’t the extravagance.”

“You deserve everything I can give and more, my lady,” He insisted. “I might seem oblivious but I do notice the animosity among the ladies, no doubt sewn by the woman who would call herself queen.”

“Your highness. Such favours do not improve their distaste for me.”

“Let them languish in their scorn,” He shrugged. “I am not beholden to my own subjects.”

You weighed his words as you thought. “While I am grateful for the chambers, is it not improper for you to speak of visiting. I could not possibly receive you without a chaperone.”

He looked at you. His forehead wrinkled and the frustration burned in his eyes. “Why do insist upon such piety, my lady? Have I not shown you restraint? Respect?”

“It is not you who troubles me, your highness,” You lied. “Merely those who would seek to harm me. What should they say if the king visits the chambers of an unwed lady upon his own? Surely worse than what they already do.”

“Very well, you may have your father attend our meetings, or perhaps another you trust with the task,” He sighed. “Or perhaps I should enlist a priest to oversee us.”

“I only seek to preserve my virtue, as well as your own stature, your highness.” You said. “What am I to think with all that has occurred these last weeks?”

His eyes narrowed and his face turned to stone. He looked ahead and his profile caught the sunlight. “You speak of Lady Rose?”

“I do. And can you blame me if I fear the same fate?”

“Lady Rose assured her own fate. She tries to thrust her bastard upon me but it will be known to the court soon enough the truth of her circumstance.” He puffed up his chest and huffed. “While I do not deny my own error, I knew her to be a woman careless of her honour.” He looked to you and his face softened. “Much unlike you.”

“Your--” You lurched back suddenly as your horse whinnied and kicked up its front hooves.

You clung to the reins and hugged the saddle with your thighs as the horse bucked beneath you. A rabbit hopped frantically around its feet as it came back down in a panic at the small creature. You bounced upon the horse’s back as it continued to snort and whine, your own yelps let loose as you struggled not to be tossed.

“My lady,” The king tried to grab the reins and found his fingers almost crushed by the horse’s teeth. 

The horse kicked and turned in its fervour. You were jerked so that you bit your tongue and you saw another rider near you. You barely caught sight of Lord Barnes’ dark hair before your horse dashed into the foliage. You exclaimed as you had not choice but to hold on or be sent flying.

Branches whipped over your head and twigs tugged at your hood and cloak. You lowered yourself over the horse’s neck as it reared wildly along the forest floor. You could hear hooves behind you and voices shouting but could not decipher them. You whimpered in fear as the beast stormed forward and barreled between trunks and over roots.

Suddenly, he came to a stop. So violently that you were jolted forward over his head to land harshly upon the dirt and roll down into a ditch just beneath a bent oak. You groaned at the stab along your arm and the ache that filled your body. The horse snorted and its hooves galloped away from you noisily. You were left weak in the mud as your head spun.

The voices came clearer but distant nonetheless. The leaves muffled their tone. “I see the horse.” Barnes voice cut through the hum of the forest. “Over there.”

A set of hooves set off after your horse. You groaned and heard a twig snap. Another horse huffed but did not follow the other. Soft footsteps trampled over the earth. They walked near to where you lay and passed along. You could hear the far away call of the king’s voice, the hopeless pursuit of the riderless horse.

The footsteps were close again. You let out a moan as you tried to sit up. The figure paused.

“Help,” You croaked. “Hello? Is someone there?”

“My lady,” Barnes called back to you. “Where are you?”

“I am upon...the ground,” You were breathless from the impact. “I do not know where.”

You heard the crumple of leaves and the suck of mud on the sole of boots. A shadow appeared in the brush along the side of the ditch as Barnes appeared amid the haze of the forest. He peered down at you and slid down into the crevice to kneel beside you.

“I didn’t think I saw you on that horse,” He said softly. “My lady, can you move?”

“I don’t--” You reached to him with your right arm but your left reverberated in agony. You cried out and kicked your legs at the pang. “I can but...but it hurts.”

“Where does it hurt?” He asked as he reached to sweep the dirt from your cheek.

“My arm...my shoulder,” You gasped. 

“You must get up,” He urged. “I can help you but you must stand.”

“It hurts…” You breathed weakly.

“I will take your uninjured arm and help,” He stepped over you and grabbed your right arm. “Once you are up, it won’t be so bad.”

“I can’t--”

“One, two, three,” He ignored your plea and pulled you up until you were forced to plant your feet beneath you. Your ankle felt brittle but not so painful as your arm. “Careful, careful. That’s it.”

“My arm. I cannot move--” You groaned as you looked over at your heavy limb. “Ow.”

“We must find the others before they stray far, my lady.” He led you out of the ditch with his arm around your back. “My horse is just over there...much calmer than your own.”

“I tried ...to hold on.”

“That beast was wild.” He intoned. “Whatever fool saddled it should be lashed.”

You let out pathetic gasps as he guided you between the trees. His golden gelding stood patiently between two elms and sniffed at the patchy dirt.

"Brace yourself, I must lift you. Just get your leg over, I'll do the rest." He released you but stayed close behind.

You flinched when you felt his hand on your waist. He counted against and lifted you. You used your right arm as you angled your leg over the saddle. He helped push you upright though you slumped in pain on the horse.

He took the reins. "Hold on." He said and you grabbed the saddle grip. 

He slowly led the horse in a circle and back the way you'd come through. He sped up a little with each step and your arm felt as if it would fall off. Finally he came upon the path where the ladies waited. Only Callum and the servants remained with them. 

"Lord Callum, go find the men and let them know the lady is found. Then send to the castle to have a physician readied." Lord Barnes ordered as he led his horse between the group of women and servants. 

"She is injured?" The queen remarked. It wasn't truly a question but an affirmation.

"She will survive, I think." Barnes said as he turned back to his horse and Callum trod off into the trees. "My, what a dramatic day." He lowered his voice as he came around to the side of the horse.

"I may faint, my lord," You said softly as you struggled to stay aloft. "I feel very poorly."

"You don't look otherwise," He assured you with a grin.

"Really, this is not the time." You warned.

"Well I expect you won't look so pitiful later," He teased. "You needn't worry, you'll keep the arm, I'm sure."

"I do not know what is more painful," You gasped as another pang shot through you. "My arm or your chatter."

"I'd bet on myself any day." He grinned and stroked the horse's mane. "Next time, take Marigold. He is so calm they thought him a mare."

"Should there be a next time." You griped and winced.

"Do not be so morbid, my lady." He jibed.

"Oh I was not but now your suggestion should make me fear for my well-being." You retorted.

A rush of hooves sounded from the trees. Steven led the charge as he appeared with Samuel, Edward, and Anthony. The king held the reins of your former steed as it shook its dark mane wildly.

"My lady," He was breathless as he handed the reins to Samuel. He dismounted and rushed over to stand next to Barnes. "You are hurt?"

The queen's dark sigh permeated the air but none dared look at her. The king touched the dirtied tail of your cloak as he peered up at you .

"I found your horse and thought you in dire circumstance," He said pitifully. "I did worry most immensely."

"She was tossed from her horse but she is well enough to carry her own weight," Barnes said. "Her arm may need setting."

"My lady, I will have this tempestuous beast put out." The king avowed.

"You needn't punish the creature, your highness," You said. "I cannot begrudge it its life for being afraid. Please, do not harm him."

"Even after such grievous injury, you are merciful," The king marveled. "My lady, you truly are the fairest I've ever known."

You moaned and clutched your shoulder. You yelped and hung your head. The king touched your hand but only for a moment. He turned back to the lords and ladies.

"We will return to the castle," He announced. "Before any other should have the chance to get hurt." He swung himself up on on his horse. "Lord Barnes, I trust you to see her to the castle physician upon our return."


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This Chapter: The reader is attended to.
> 
> Warnings: eventual dark elements (tags to be added as fic continues)
> 
> This is dark!(king)Steve and explicit. 18+ only.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Got this done before work yesterday. It was a rough day though and I have some family stuff today so I’m not sure when I can work on more but I’ve been doing okay so far.
> 
> I’d like to thank everyone for reading and their support. I am truly astound and humbled by the response to this because it was very much unexpected. Thank you.
> 
> (also open to new moodboards for the fic or even playlists for inspo if anyone’s interested.)
> 
> I really hope you enjoy. 💋 You guys rock!
> 
> <3 Let me know what you think with a comment! Love ya!

You barely recalled the ride back to the castle. Lord Barnes reined in your former steed as he led you along the path. His horse was much calmer and followed along diligently ahead of the party. He swiftly dismounted and helped you down from the saddle as the stable hands rushed to take the mounts from him. He barely acknowledged him as you wobbled on your feet.

Another rush of snorting and hooves followed as the king jumped from his saddle onto the ground. He neared as Barnes took your good arm and led you to the door of the stable. The lords and ladies drew up just outside, the queen kept away from the rest. Steven strode at your other side as you were guided towards the castle.

“My lady,” He was hesitant to touch you as your arm hung from the socket. “The physician should await you.”

“Your highness, I shall see her to him,” Barnes assured. “But you should address your court before you retire. Conclude the hunt formally and then you may attend to the lady when she has been seen to.” He lowered his voice as he stopped and turned you so that he stood closer to the king. “You’ve brought enough scandal for the day. In your carelessness, you may just spoil your own plans.”

The king frowned and looked between Barnes and you. 

“You cannot abandon your queen so blatantly. Not after your previous slight. Especially as she mopes so openly.”

“Queen,” Steven spat. “A title far too grand for the wench.”

“Enough,” Barnes warned. You’d never heard anyone speak to the king thus. “Not like this. Mind your court, your lords, your ladies, and when the time rises, they shall stand behind you, but should you abandon Eleanor as such, they shall do the same to you.” You leaned against his arm and moaned in pain. “Patience and she will see to her own fate. Now please, the lady is about to faint.”

“Ever prudent, Buck,” The king addressed his friend by his pet name. “Away with her. See her well and send to me when she is fit for visitation.”

“I shall,” Barnes bowed his head. “Your highness.”

“My friend,” Steven clapped Barnes’ shoulder. “Thank you.”

The king bowed to you and for a moment, he stopped to admire you. In your agonized haze, you wondered if it was all in your head. A symptom of your injury. He smiled and turned to march back down the trail to his royal party as they gathered before the stable.

“What did you mean?” You asked as Barnes turned you back towards the castle. “See to her own fate?”

“You needn’t worry yourself, my lady,” He assured you. “You know how perilous this court can be. None of us are beyond its grasp...not even our queen.”

“Wait?” You tried to pull him to a halt but he easily brushed you onward. “Do you conspire against the queen?”

“I do not,” He said firmly. “Though there is conspiracy at play.”

“Lord Barnes, you evade me--”

“I daresay, at this moment, you have greater worries than courtly woes.” He remanded. “Now do try to lift your feet. I have no great desire to carry you through the corridors.”

You did your best to walk upon your own feet. Your ankle was tender but not unbearably so. Barnes slowed when he found himself dragging you though the stairs were terribly steep and winding. The corridors were cold and grim as he led you along. Your boots slipped along the stone as you winced at every jostle of your arm.

You recognized the doors before you. As he opened them and angled you through, footsteps echoed around the next corner. He looked up and nodded to the nearing shadows before he slipped through into your receiving chambers. As Barnes sat you upon one of the carved chairs around the painted table, he turned back to greet Callum and the squat physician.

“Is this the injured lady?” The man asked as he held a chest bound by leather straps.

“She is,” Barnes backed away from you and crossed his arms. “It’s her shoulder. Look how her arm hangs.”

“Ah yes, it is very concerning,” He eyed your left arm as you leaned heavily in the chair. “I should need to see beneath her cloak. Perhaps, remove her sleeves and perhaps the bodice. Might you help move her to her private chamber so that I may examine her properly and decently?”

“Yes, yes, of course.” 

Barnes and Callum came up beside the chair and pulled you back to your feet. You were weak as they guided you to the door of your chamber. Only Barnes passed the threshold to help you to the edge of the bed. He retreated as the physician came up beside him and nodded for him to proceed. He sent you one last look before he retreated and closed the door staunchly behind him.

“My lady, I need to remove your cloak. May I?” The physician was nervous in his demeanour. 

You nodded and his hand proved more sure than his tone. He swiftly unbuckled your cape and let it fall from your shoulders. He gently touched your shoulder and you winced with a grunt. He squeezed for only a moment and the pain grew unbearable. He hummed and rescinded his touch. He pulled his trunk close and undid the straps.

“It will be a momentary pain, my lady,” He warned as he stirred around. “But it will relent most quickly once we are through.”

👑 

Marge arrived shortly after to attend to you as the physician slung your arm in cotton. The fabric held it at an angle against your stomach and kept you from pulling on the tender joint. Your servant helped adjust your gown and fixed the loose laces. Your skirts were trimmed still in mud and your face was scratched along your cheeks and chin. She tidied your hair and replaced the hood over your head.

After the physicians departure, you remained in your chamber as you tried to collect yourself. As you reflected on the incident, you realized how much worse it could have turned out. You were thankful for only a torn shoulder and a sore ankle. And, you hoped, the injury would allow you a respite from the courtly drama.

“My lady, shall I send the lord away now?” Marge asked.

“Lord Barnes?” You asked as you stood straight from staring at the mirror.

“He awaits without still,” She assured you. 

“I can inform him myself, Marge,” You said as you turned. “If you would get the door for me.”

She nodded and opened the door diligently. She waited for you to pass through before she followed. Lord Barnes stood at the fireplace, his dark head tilted up as he gazed at the portrait of the king. He did not turn as he heard your entrance.

“Oh, I love him but he is the most vain man I’ve ever known,” He chuckled. “A kingly sort of avarice.”

“Lord Barnes, you must’ve seen the physician go,” You began. “And it is not proper that I receive you without a proper chaperone.”

“The maid is here,” He turned at last. “Marge, was it?” He asked and the servant nodded with a grin. “She seems the proper type.”

“Even so, my lord, I am tired and in much pain, I should prefer my solitary.”

“There is no such thing at court,” He insisted. “So...the shoulder,” He looked to your arm, “It is fixed?”

“It is fragile yet but healed, so the physician said,” You replied.

“You did put up quite the fight, my lady,” He mused, “I should think I would have let myself be tossed at the first buck but you did persist.”

“It was fear only and stupidity,” You assured him. “Do you mind if I sit, my lord?”

“Please,” He strode across the floor as he admired the tapestries hung over the stone. “You should gather your strength for you will--”

He did not finish his thought as a knock sounded at the door. Before Marge could reach it, the handle clicked and it swung inward. The king entered without invitation and stopped short as you lowered yourself into a cushioned chair. You made to rise and he waved you down with his hand.

“My lady, please, do not trouble yourself,” He crossed to you and knelt beside your chair. “I’ve only come to see that you are well. I spoke with my physician, he says you should recover quickly.”

“I should hope,” You sat back weakly. “The pain has relented.”

“You’ve suffered worse in a joust, your highness,” Barnes intoned from behind. The king looked to him in surprise.

“Bucky, I didn’t know you remained.”

“I said I would see to her,” He said plainly. “She is strong but she will need time for her healing.”

“No, no, it is most convenient. In my impatience, I did leave Hugh behind and he was to be our chaperone.”

Barnes nodded and turned back to the tapestry. “Then I shall linger over here,” He said. “And continue to envy how my own chambers pale in comparison.”

The king turned his attention back to you and took your uninjured hand. Marge softly closed the door and resumed her vigil along the wall. Steve frowned at your slinged arm. 

“I was most concerned, I could think of nothing else. But an hour has passed between us and I feel it has been an eternity,” He declared and kissed the back of your hand. Barnes’ boot scuffed the floor as he shifted his weight. “I thought of the most dire results, of how fickle this life is to all of us.”

“Your highness, I am mostly unscathed and shall return to health in due time.” You assured him.

“Oh, but I did think of what should’ve happened were it worse. The thought of losing you, of a life without you, and it did frighten me wholly. And I was as startled to realize how deeply I feel for you, my lady. Of how entirely you’ve taken me.” He squeezed your hand as he looked up at you with sparkling eyes. “Can you not see how I love you?”

“Love?” You gasped before you could stop yourself. “Your highness, that is a potent word. Dangerous, even.”

“Oh but it is true,” He said. “I’ve never felt as I do now and I would not deny it. Cannot deny it.”

“The queen--”

“The queen!” He decried as he let go and tossed his hands up. “Oh, how you do go on!”

He stood as Barnes peeked over his shoulder. The lord quickly averted his attention back to the woven cloth.

“Did I not think upon her too in my despair. Of her neglect, of her distaste for me, and her false title.” He paced the floor as he spoke. “I think of it often. Of how I’ve betrayed my own people, lied to them, and now because of it I am deprived of what I yearn for most.”

“What is it you insinuate?” You wondered. You clung to your skirt tightly as a weight settled in your chest. “You cannot mean such accusations.”

“Oh, but they are more than that. The queen knows it and she means to hide the truth.” He bemoaned. “At my expense and yours.”

“Your highness--”

“I cannot say as yet, but I am not mad, my lady,” He insisted. “I see the queen’s hand in all that has befallen you. All the misery which has ensnared me. I know she plots and yet...we must wait.”

“Plot?” You looked to Barnes as his shoulders stiffened. He couldn’t hide his discomfort. “My king, do you not plot, too? In your pursuit of me? In your public declarations which do reflect so disgracefully upon us both?”

“I do not plot, I only seek the truth,” He strode towards you once more. He stood before you with his hand on his chest. “Oh, my lady, but I shall reveal to you a secret I’ve harboured, the only I dare confess. The intentions I have concealed but to protect your propriety and my own.”

“What secret do you speak of, your majesty?” You breathed.

“Why, I do mean to marry you, my lady,” He smiled. “And I did not dare to speak of my intentions before I could bring them to fruition. For I could fail against the queen’s machinations and I did not mean to scare you.”

“Marry? Marry?” You repeated in disbelief. “Oh, but your highness, it cannot be. Your union--”

“My union is illegitimate and I shall prove it to be.” He interrupted. “I reflected upon your words, upon my own errors, and I should like to be redeemed. To atone for my sins. I would not have you be just another lady.” He got to his knees again and clasped his hands together. “I would have you as my wife and nothing less.”

Barnes slowly turned around. You blinked at the king then glanced to the other lord. Your own confusion was plain upon his face. “Any betrothal initiated during another union would be declared illegitimate in kind.” You protested.

“I do not propose to you, my lady, no, not yet,” He assured you. “I only mean to have my intentions known.”

“Your highness, we should not speak of these things.” You pleaded. “I still serve the queen. I am bound to her as you are and we cannot--”

He grabbed the arm of the chair and raised himself. He leaned over you so suddenly you could not react. He pressed his lips to yours so harshly that you could not turn away. He kissed you until you thought you would suffocate. He pulled away sharply, shoved himself to his feet and turned his back to you.

“Forgive me, my lady,” He said softly and reached to touch his lips. “I...have waited so long and the thought of waiting longer does make me impulsive.”

Barnes watched his king a moment before he lowered his eyes to the floor. It was hard to read his thoughts as his eyes harboured a flurry of unspoken words. You trembled as the king trod across the carpet and shook his head at himself.

“I have told you, my lady, that I shall give you whatever you wish.” He spun back to you again. “And you wish me to wait, so I shall wait but I will not wait for anything but your hand. For you entirely.”

You pressed yourself against the chair. You tried to smile through your horror. You felt the eyes of the servant and the silent lord. You shakily touched your chest as you looked up at the king.

“I vow to you that we will be together.” He promised. “We must only bide ourselves a little longer.”

"We should not speak of it. Even here. Even alone." You played with the edge of the sling. "We should ready for the feast."

"Why lady, I've had the feast delayed until the morrow. I should allow you some time to acquiesce and see that you've enough strength for it." He explained. "You are the Maiden of the Forest and it will be upon you to wear the title with grace."

"You needn't have," You said. "You’ve doted on me far too much. Do you think the court does not notice? That they will not ponder on the king's visit to my chambers?"

"Damn the people," He snarled. "They will not keep me from you. And when they see the queen for the fraudulent shrew she is, they will have the sense to accept you."

"And Lady Rose?"

"I've told you I will see that she is dealt with," He huffed. "There is nothing that can stand between us, my lady, you must see that?" His face fell. "Or do you not feel as I do?"

You blanched. You'd evaded the question before, so not to rile the king or overtly disobey your father. But you knew that neither Marge nor Lord Barnes could save you.

"Oh, but your highness, how suddenly it has all happened that I haven't even a moment to know what I feel." You countered. "And how can I let myself feel but humbly towards a man already entwined?"

The king's golden lashes lowered and a pained grimace strained his features. He nodded and slowly raised his head.

"And so I shall do away with that which keeps apart so that you may feel as you wish. So that there is nothing to keep your heart at bay." He bent his head to you. "And so we shall let you rest for the night and see you well upon the morrow."

"Your highness," You tried to rise and he gestured you to stay.

"My lady, you mustn't. Do not exert yourself thus." He advised and turned sharply on his heel. "Lord Barnes." He signaled his companion. "We've much to do."


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This Chapter: The court celebrates the last hunt.
> 
> Warnings: eventual dark elements (tags to be added as fic continues)
> 
> This is dark!(king)Steve and explicit. 18+ only.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so I called in today because of my anxiety at the suggestion of my boytoy and he told me to sleep in a bit. He’s not a doctor, but he’s got a PhD (pretty huge dick) so I have to listen. But I got this chapter done last night so y’all still get your fix, lol.
> 
> Also, I have to thank you guys, I really can’t thank you enough. I am in love with this fic and truly in your discussion of it bc yall seem as invested as I am and I just love all the possibilities and how these characters are turning out and it’s all been so much fun. So please, enjoy and remember that I love you (but I will not leave my wife for you, sorry).
> 
> (also open to new moodboards for the fic or even playlists for inspo if anyone’s interested. memes always welcome.)
> 
> I really hope you enjoy. 💋 You guys rock!
> 
> <3 Let me know what you think with a comment! Love ya!

You were never one to stand out among a crowd. Were it not for the sling around your shoulder, that would still be true. You suspected, without the king’s interest, that would be even more true. But despite your simply cut gown, you could sense the eyes as you entered the hall.

The trestles were set with scarlet cloth and silver plates. You followed the other unwed ladies to the table opposite the lower lords. The king would sit at the high table with several favoured lords and ladies and those of the council not among them would sit along the next. 

You were surprised to spot your father along that group of men, though he did not wear the pin that the other counselors wore. He nodded at you from across the room as he took his seat. You were stopped before you could go behind the trestle by a servant in royal colours. The other ladies glanced over but quickly hid their curiosity.

“My lady,” The servant said. “You are to take the place of honour at the high table.”

“Pardon?” You stepped aside to let Joan pass behind you. 

“The king has declared you the Maiden of the Forest. You must take your proper seat,” The servant insisted. “If you would follow me, my lady.”

“Um,” You glanced to the ladies as they sat along the bench then to the table where your father sat. His eyes narrowed at you as he listened to Lord Callum. “Certainly. As you will.”

You waited for the servant to lead you. You climbed the short steps up to the dais that held the king’s table. Diana and Mable sat with their husbands, Anthony and Samuel, and Lord Barnes stood next to an empty chair to the right of the king’s. The royal couple themselves were upon a short platform that held them another half foot above their guests. 

The servant gestured towards Barnes. “Just down there, lady.” He explained. “With Lord Barnes.”

“Thank you,” You nodded to the man and he quickly departed for his other chores.

As you walked along the table, behind chairs both occupied and not, you stared at the king’s chair. The thought of spending the feast next to him filled you with dread. A blur of movement caught your eye and you found Lord Barnes awaiting you with a smile as you drew nearer.

“My lady,” He took your hand and bowed to kiss your hand dramatically. “The venerable Maiden of the Forest.”

“You mock me,” You accused. “Though I should wonder how a man in such a smock could find the gull to do so.”

“Oh but any silk not dull as stone would seem gauche next to your attire, my lady,” He quipped. “As a second daughter, I am certain you expected a convent but you’ve escaped the habit of yet.”

“I thought you the king’s man, not his jester,” You returned. He politely shifted the chair back for you to sit. “Though perhaps a fool’s cap would suit you better.”

“As much as a bolder shade would bring out your complexion, my lady,” He remarked as you sat. “Do you truly seek to deter the king or is this truly what you consider fashionable?”

“This is what an earl’s daughter can afford,” You said sharply. 

“If only half this court was as self-aware as you, my lady,” He sat beside you, “Perhaps then it would not be so turbulent.”

“Oh, if only,” You agreed.

“The sling, however, does brighten the look,” He added. “How does your shoulder fair?”

“Tender but not so insufferable as my company.”

You looked across the room. Rose was not among the ladies. You hadn’t seen her since before the hunt and heard even less of her. ‘I will see that she is dealt with’, those were the words the king had spoke. The promise he’d made to you though you could not untangle his meaning.

“Oh my lady, I do remember the scene in your chambers,” He intoned. “I am not the worst you must suffer.”

He grinned as you looked to him. Your retort was curtailed by the sound of a horn. You stood at the announcement of the king’s arrival and all bowed as he entered. He wore a rich green brocade slitted with gold silk. The queen’s dress was a similar shade though she did not bear the same poise. Her sharp eyes scanned the hall and fell on you. She pushed her shoulders back and averted her gaze with detest.

Barnes shifted on his feet and peeked over at you out of the corner of his eye. You raised your brows and shook your head. He was not so unconcerned as he pretended to be. The king and queen made their entrance to the blaring of the horn and ascended the dais as their subjects waited and watched.

You kept your head forward as they passed behind you and the queen’s skirts brushed against the legs of your chair. “Snake.” She snarled under her breath for you to hear. You struggled not to flinch at the word and listened as her heels clicked up the step to her perch.

“You handle it better than most.” Barnes whispered as the royal couple sat and their guests followed suit.

“What else can I do but bite my tongue and keep my eyes forward?” You returned as he reached for the decanter and filled his goblet. 

“Wine?” He offered but did not await your answer before he poured it in your cup. “And let me say, I’ve seen a dozen or so women in your position and they often resort to boasting, arrogance even.”

“In my position? And you think–”

“Oh, I know of your modesty,” He assured you as he sipped and servants appeared with platters and began to set them out between silver plates. “Though such restraint is almost unknown at this court. I suspect that’s why the king has remained so persistent.”

You drank from your cup and glanced over at the king. You worried he would overhear. He was entirely distracted by Eleanor’s whispers though barely entertained. He scowled as his eyes swept the ceiling and he huffed in response.

“He has persisted before, has he not?” You kept your voice low.

“A month, maybe two, and only after he obtained his prize.” He paused as a platter was set between you. “You only expedited Rose’s downfall but you didn’t cause it.”

“Is that your expectation? A month, maybe two for me?” You wondered. “It is not that I do not expect the same treatment, only that I’d hope to avoid the same end.”

“I don’t know what to expect,” He shrugged as he speared a slice of venison from the platter. “For so long as I’ve known the king, I’ve not quite seen him as I did in your chamber.”

“Surely he must’ve promised the same to other ladies.” You took a smaller piece and scooped some roasted veggies upon your plate.

“Jewels and fancy baubles only,” He said. “Eleanor is a princess herself, even without the marriage. What he intends is not so easily done as said.”

“And you think he truly means to do it?” You hovered your fork above your plate as you stared at him. Despite the edge of his tongue, he proved to be the most honest at court.

“I think he means to have you,” He cut into his venison, “And there is little that can stop him once he has his mind set.”

You looked to your plate and pushed a piece of potato around the silver. Your stomach knotted as you pondered cutting your meat with one hand.

“My lady,” A whisper distracted you. You looked over as the king leaned down. “I should ask after your health.”

“I am well,” You assured him. “My arm does not bother me so much but I must avoid straining it further.”

“Well enough to dance?” He ventured as his eyes lit up. “Being the Maiden of the Forest, it would be expected you take up the boards.”

“A dance.” You assured him, “But not many more. I fear the sling would make me far more ungainly than I already am.”

“A dance, a smile, I relish in all that you allow me, my lady,” His eyes flicked down for just a moment. “And what of the gifts _I_ have given you?”

Your eyes rounded for a moment before you recalled the opal necklace still hidden in your trunk. “Oh, your highness, how forgetful I am. It has all been so hectic I’ve not even the thought to wear it, though it is the finest piece I’ve ever owned.”

“I should like that you would,” He reproached. “As a marker of my love for you.”

You looked down and nodded. “I will have to remind myself,” You said quietly. “I do forget myself so often.”

“Oh, but lady, do not punish yourself,” He said softly. “For I bear you no anger, I only wish to see you well.”

“And I do thank you for your concern,” You looked up at him. “It means very much.”

“I think of nothing else,” He assured you, “No one else.”

He bowed his head and sat up. The queen’s eyes glared across the room as she ignored her husband’s conversation with you. You sat back and took another drink. Barnes was smiling as he swallowed his mouthful.

“While I admire your grace, I know you are rather adept at rancor. Perhaps you would be best to prove the same to him.” He mused. “Oh, it might solve many problems should you speak with more than a lamb’s tongue.”

“I am honest–”

“Oh but you coat it in honey,” He interjected. “Our king is wise. Should you bite him once, he might just leave you alone.”

“And should he choose to swat me down instead?”

“Despite what you’ve known of him, he is not entirely irrational,” He said coolly. “Perhaps he might realize his wife is not so vile after all.”

“Perhaps,” You mulled as you prodded a slice of carrot, “Or perhaps it is too late for even that.”

👑

The night wore on. Your shoulder ached; from the tension, from the stiff chair, from your general discomfort. The king would lean down to speak to you every now and then and as he did, all in the hall would notice. Though they tried to be subtle, you did not miss their intrusive eyes.

Lord Barnes did not hide his awareness either. At times, he’d lean back and speak to the king around you. The queen’s malice radiated from the other side of the king but she would not acknowledge her husband’s obvious disregard.

When the meal came to an end, the horn sounded once more and the platters were cleared. Several courses had left guests joyous and half-drunk.

The king stood before the band could begin to pluck. He held a hand up as he waited for silence. His subjects hushed their chatter and looked to him. He smiled back, a beacon of kingly grace.

“And so we close another season. This marks the beginning of winter and the end of our most bountiful season.” His voice carried easily across the hall. “As is tradition we must crown our Maiden of the Forest.”

You gulped and looked to Barnes. He smirked at the king’s words and scoffed. He leaned back and watched nonchalantly as Steven continued. A servant appeared at the wave of his hand.

“If you would, my lady,” He nodded to you as he took a circlet of vines and petals from the servant.

You rose stiffly. He offered his free hand and you took it as he guided you up beside him. The queen kept her head high and you peered out across the hall. Your father was turned around in his chair watching proudly. The servant helped remove your cap.

“In the name of the hunt, I name you our Maiden of the Forest.” The king announced as he placed the crown of flowers upon your head. “May you reign this night with grace and joy.”

“Thank you, your highness, ” Your voice was brittle as your head swayed.

“And to close the old season and open the new, let us dance.” He declared. “Maiden, would you grant me your first dance?”

You nodded. At first, your throat was too tight to speak. The queen’s hand was balled in a fist upon the table. “Yes, your highness,” You managed, “If you can forgive my shortfalls, it is yours.”

“Then let us dance!” He boomed.

For a moment, no one moved and then all at once, the band picked up and the nobles began to rise from the tables. They filtered out to the floor as the king led you behind the chairs and from the dais. Barnes did not rise and poured himself another cup.

The king pressed his palm to yours as you came to face each other. You felt awkward and unbalanced with your other arm in its sling. As he moved his feet, you shuffled around him. You hadn’t thought your dancing could get worse.

“My lady, I am glad to see you well.” He cooed. “I admit I was restless with worry for you.”

“Your highness.” You said curtly and looked around at the other dancers.

He was silent for a moment as you followed the music.

“Have I wronged you, my lady?” He asked.

“Have you? Oh, how can you not see what you do to me? This court reviles me due to your humiliation of the queen. Your declarations that would allude to adultery.”

“My lady, I only mean to honour you and your virtue–”

“What you mean and what you have done are not the same. You would crown me with your wife at your side. You would overlook her for me. You would sully my virtue as you claim to protect it.” You glanced over at Barnes as he remained at the table. He looked into his cup as he sloshed it around. “And I have treated you with nothing by reverence and yet you persist.”

“I have promised you anon that the woman who claims herself as my wife is none such.” He hissed. “But I must gather my evidence before I can make it known. Before I can right what is wrong.”

“You promise me what you cannot give. You would rob me of my future for your present desire. Your highness, I cannot hold my tongue further and tolerate you as you are so blatant in your disregard.” You pulled away from him. A little bite to warn him; to scare him away. “Your majesty I must return to my former chambers and return to you your gift accepted only under duress for I cannot demean myself for you any longer. Not so long as you sit in sin.”

He reeled as if you had struck him. You stepped away as he stared at you, his nostrils flared as his eyes searched you. He lingered between fury and despair.

“My lady, you do mistreat me.”

“The truth is not always painless, your highness,” You said sternly. “And I do not wish to remain the victim of rumour.” You lowered your hand. “It cannot be… good night, your highness. ”

You bowed and spun on your heel so quickly you nearly slipped. You lifted your skirts to scurry between the bodies. Your flesh was afire as you fled into the corridor.

You took a breath and continued along the stone floor. You heard the door and looked back to the shadow that followed you. The king found you through the flicker of lanterns and turned to trail you. You rounded the corner as you picked up your feet. 

“My lady,” He called after you as his boots echoed on the stone. “Please, do not run from me.”

You moved as quickly as you could, the motion jolted your shoulder painfully. He was close as you reached the next corner and he caught your hand before you could evade him. He drew you to face him as he looked down at you.

“Why do you spurn me? Why do you accuse me of spite when all I’ve shown you is kindness?” He pleaded. His grip slid to your wrist and he squeezed. “Why do you delay me if you do not yearn for what I promise you?”

“You’re hurting me,” You gasped as his hold grew firmer. “Your highness.”

“I give and I give and I give,” He stepped closer until you were against the wall. “And you withhold yourself from me.”

“You scare me,” You breathed. 

“I promise you a union, a crown, and all you could desire and yet you reprimand me and let me suffer so,” He was against you. He pressed his body to yours and you felt a hardness beneath his belt.

“And I have not pushed you. I have not violated you. I have waited.” He ground his pelvis into you as he crushed your injured arm. “I have not taken you as I have dreamt. I have not come into your chambers as you sleep and taken what I desire." 

He let go of your wrist and grabbed your chin. He forced you to look at him. "Because, my lady, I have decided that I will have you. Not just as my mistress, but as my wife, my queen. Because I don’t just want that treasure you hide beneath those skirts,” He bent so that his breath was upon your face.“I want everything you have because you would deny me of the one thing I asked. ”

You gaped up at him and trembled. You winced as his weight pushed on your sore shoulder. He leaned in until his nose touched yours.

“And though, at this moment, I could gather your skirts and take you against this wall, I will not,” He pushed his hips harder against you. “Because when I do take you, I will be certain that you shall never elude me again." 

He pressed his lips to yours as he held your jaw in place. You struggled as he seemed like to devour you. You were trapped against the stone; terrified and helpless. He pulled away slowly and rubbed along your cheek with his thumb. 

"My lady, remember my benevolence for my restraint frays.” He growled. “Though in the end, my desire will not.”


	11. Chapter 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This Chapter: The reader finds herself in need of allies.
> 
> Warnings: eventual dark elements (tags to be added as fic continues)
> 
> This is dark!(king)Steve and explicit. 18+ only.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I thank you all for coming along on this adventure with me and I can’t believe we’re already on part 11 over here. Things will amp up in the next chapter and I’m just hoping I can bring into fruition all that I imagine. I love you all, I appreciate you all. You is good, you is kind. 💋 
> 
> <3 Let me know what you think with a comment! Love ya!

You sat at the vanity as Marge plaited your hair. You still weren’t used to having her around but the ritual was soothing. Since the feast, not a week past, the king’s attentions had become more adamant, his visits almost daily. He brought his footman and his usual vows of devotion. Though now, they were underlined with darker tones.

You looked tired. You _felt_ tired. The king was not the only royal fixated upon you. The queen did little to hide her distaste but you would not relent in your attendance. It would be to admit a guilt you did not carry. For as much as you tried, your will proved insignificant. It was upon the king’s inclination that you found yourself as you were.

That day was no different. You would break fast at the queen’s table then follow her to mass. A sewing circle, perhaps some recitation, until the afternoon meal. The women would be as they always were. Whispering and wiling away their time amidst their gossip.

Marge finished pinning your hair as you stared into your own distant eyes. “The grey hood should do.” You said. 

You tore your gaze from your reflection. You waited for her to near and pull the hood over your hair. It was as plain as all your clothing. No golden tassels like the queen or embroidered flowers like Rose. Grey trimmed in black. Almost nunlike.

You stood as Marge backed away. Before you could enter the receiving chamber, a knock sounded. You stepped aside for the servant to pass and watched as she went diligently to answer the visitor. You held your breath as the hinges groaned and were almost relieved to find your father upon the other side.

“Father,” you greeted stiffly.

“Daughter,” He entered with a dull look. He glanced around the room, his eyes passive as he took in the expanse. He hadn’t even a receiving chamber for his courtly business. “You look well.”

“Thank you,” You clasped your hands together and watched him stroll around the room. Marge closed the door and took her spot along the wall. 

“I apologize for not visiting sooner but I’ve been just as busy as yourself,” He preened as he turned to you. “Have you heard of my promotion?”

“Promotion? Why, Father, I hear so little of you or from you.” You returned and he sneered.

“Well, while I do think you’ve behaved rather ridiculously in this whole…affair, it has not been without benefit,” He smiled as he crossed his arms. “Did you not notice the absence of Lord Alan at the feast? Or that I took his place among the counselors?”

“I noticed but I assumed an oversight.”

He narrowed his eyes and shook his head. “Let’s hope that sharp tongue does not see you fall as swiftly as you’ve risen.” He warned. “I am a councilman now, and still your father, and you remain within my reign. The king has yet to supersede me.”

“I could never forget my patronage, father,” You assured. “Not even a fall from a horse could shake such unpleasantness.”

“I know not how the king bears you, but I am only thankful that he does.” Your father dropped his arms, hands on his hips in a stance much like the king’s in the portrait above your mantle. “Do you not wonder how Lord Alan’s seat came to be vacant?”

“Should I wonder, father?” You asked. “And if I should, you might be quick about the explanation for I am due for my attendance of the queen.”

He chuckled. “Why, he did confess to his crime. To planting that whelp inside Lady’s Rose’s womb and he didn’t say a word when the harlot did accuse the king.” Your father could not help the delight in his voice. “The king did consider the dungeon, an axe even, but he is merciful. He did only strip the lord of his seat and order him to marry the girl so that she not continue in her accusations.”

“What?” You were truly stunned. The revelation did account for Rose’s recent absence. 

“They will be allowed to remain at court but not without the stain of their sins,” Your father reached up to adjust the pin on his chest; a golden feather which denoted a member of the king’s council. “Though, I think the king’s clemency wanes.”

“Should he need clemency?”

“Oh but daughter, all speak of the crimes which do remain unpunished,” Your father preened. “And as whispers rise louder, he will find it harder to ignore the conspiracy.”

“Conspiracy? What madness do you speak of?”

“Do you think that was truly an accident?” He pointed to your arm still bound in a sling. “Hmm?”

“A nervous horse and nervous rider,” You assured him. “It was a blessing it wasn’t worse.”

“Oh, but why should the queen house such a nervous beast?” Your father raised a brow. “The creature was examined and identified. He was the queen’s newest purchase, barely trained and known for its temper, and yet, she would have it saddled out of a dozen others for the hunt.”

“A coincidence. An oversight,” You felt the heat along your neck. “Nothing more.”

“And that its saddle was ill-fitted and lined with brambles?” He ventured and his eyes lit at the shock that washed over you. “The king outfits his own men and the queen sees to her ladies. And she surely saw to you.”

“That cannot be,” You touched your injured arm. Another day and it would be without the hideous sling. “I don’t believe you.”

“You may not, but should I suggest you have your food tasted before you would nibble at it, I assume you might heed my advice,” He suggested. “The queen has her allies and though the king is yours, his friends will not be so loyal as him.” You stood straight. “Do what you can to find some of your own and realize that I am not so much your enemy as you think, daughter.”

You stared at him. You sighed and smoothed your hand over the front of your bodice. “I should be late if I tarry longer, father, and I suspect you would too. The council awaits, do they not?”

“They do, daughter,” He nodded, half a bow, “Do not take your eye from the queen.”

He marched to the door and Marge opened it for him with a quiet “my lord.” When he was gone, she looked to you. Her concern mirrored your own. 

“Do you think the queen truly did it?” She asked.

“I do not know what to think,” You replied. “Or who to trust, so perhaps I should trust no one and keep my thoughts to myself.”

👑

To your surprise, Rose attended the queen that day. She was quiet and her dainty blue eyes were downcast. You caught yourself staring at her as she poked her needle into the tapestry. She did not sew, only pretended to. Her cheeks were red and blotchy and for the first time, you saw the girl behind the lady’s facade.

Joan and Beatrice sat with her as they always did but she did not answer them when they spoke. You did not know what was worse; to have been cast out or that she would remain at court to face her shame. Your own hand was slow without a second to hold the cloth and in your distraction, the fear that bubbled at the sight of the king’s former mistress, you were useless.

When you were dismissed to ready for the evening meal, you lingered and watched as Rose trailed behind the others. She shrugged off Beatrice who huffed and turned to grab Joan instead. You waited for them to depart as Rose dragged her feet. You caught up to her as the ladies turned the next corner.

“Rose,” You said softly. She looked to you and the pain in her eyes turned to anger.

“What? You here to boast?” She stopped sharply. “Can’t you see I’ve already been dragged low enough?”

“I do not wish to boast. I wish to speak to you,” You said calmly. “Peaceably, if we could.”

“Why?” She spat as she raised her head on her long neck. 

“Because I am not your enemy, I never have been.” You replied. “Perhaps that is how you saw me but I never saw myself as such.”

“You think I do not see how you pleasure in my disgrace–”

“Have I said a word on it? Have I whispered with the rest?” You asked. “I think you should realize that we are much more alike than you want to believe.” She frowned but did not flee. “We both know the king to be a philanderer and entirely selfish.”

“How can you when he would still have you?”

“Because I don’t want him. I never did and for all I’ve tried to deny him, it’s only encouraged him.” You kept your voice low as you ushered her towards the wall. She followed reluctantly. “And my current favour does not set me above you, it sets me alongside you. Your fate could as easily be mine. Likely worse for I am not a duke’s daughter.”

“So you play at kinship with me? Pity?” She fluttered her lashes angrily.

“I don’t play at anything. You are to marry Lord Alan and have a child who is likely the king’s bastard. This court will not be hospitable and I think it worse that he should keep you here to abide their cruelty.” You looked her in the eye. “We are both alone here but know that you do not need to be. The king declared us enemies, that was not our choosing, was it?”

She blinked and lowered her chin. When she looked at you again, her eyes glistened. “Why don’t you hate me?”

“You’ve enough of that,” You assured her. “And I have too. We needn’t be friends, Rose, but I do not want another foe.”

She sniffed and breathed deeply. “I don’t want another either.” She said. “And I am sorry for you because you are right. We’re not so different and I would wish this on no other.”

“Thank you, Rose,” You glanced down the hall. “You’re not so thorny as you pretend to be.”

👑

After your evening prayers, you returned to your chambers to find the king awaiting you. He rose as you entered and Marge waited nervously to close the behind you. Hugh was in the corner as usual, his eyes alight but unfocused. The fire crackled and the moon shone in between the heavy curtains.

“My lady,” The king greeted. “I’ve been awaiting you most eagerly.”

“Oh,” You let him kiss your hand. He did not release you as he stood straight. “Your highness, the day has worn on.”

“As they do when we’re apart,” He grinned though his tone was laced with more. “I did think of you as I went about my daily tasks. I had a fitting done today,” He steered you around to the sofa. “And I have a surprise for you.”

“A surprise?” You tired of the king and his surprises. “You did not have to.”

“Oh but I saw it and thought of you.” He stopped before the sofa. “Sit and close your eyes.”

“Your high–” He waved his hand to silence you. 

You sat heavily and closed your eyes as he bid. You heard him move around the couch and the gentle rustle of something unseen. You folded your hands in your lap and waited. You flinched as you sensed him before you.

“Open, my lady,” He said.

He held a bolt of fabric. A gentle silvery muslin embroidered with beaded curlicues. You raised your brows as you gaped at the rich cloth. 

“It will need to be lined but I should like you to have a gown for the yuletide.” He explained. “One befitting your beauty.”

“I’ve never sewn with anything so delicate,” You touched the corner of the fabric.

“I will send a seamstress and my personal tailor,” He set the roll down beside you on the sofa. “Tell me you like it.”

You stared at him a moment. Only days ago he was threatening you in a dark corridor and now he was back to his doting ways. _How far could you push him before he made good on his vows?_

“It is very beautiful,” You smiled. “Thank you, your highness.”

“I will have other fabrics sent. You are in need of a new wardrobe. Perhaps a jeweler too.”

“It is too much,” You protested but his sharp glance curtailed you. “I thank you for your generosity.”

“For you, anything,” He smiled just before he turned from you. There was another side to the words. _Was he willing to give you anything or give anything to have you?_

He strode to the mantle and considered his own image above the fireplace. He leaned on the mantle as he looked up at himself. The room was still and silent. Marge stared at her feet and Hugh looked at nothing in particular.

“I was barely more than your age when I stood for this,” He said. “They sent a copy to every princess in the world. In return, I received dozens of portraits. I had my choice of any I pleased." 

He slowly turned away from the painting. "My mother wanted Eleanor. She is a fair woman despite her demeanor. The very image of a queen. But her being does not match her appearance.”

You listened nervously. You shifted as he paced.

“When we wed, she was still in love with her old prince. She wept for weeks. She tried not to show it but I knew. And she knew I did.” He exhaled and hung his head. “We never truly had a hope. A marriage built on fallacy.”

“And it cannot be fixed?” You asked softly.

He looked at you and tilted his head. He neared and sat beside you. He took your hand in his. 

“No, because I love you, my lady.” He kissed your hand. “And there is no end for me but you.”

“Your highness." 

You did not pull away for fear of angering him. He tugged you closer as he peeked over at his footman and then your servant. He leaned in and whispered.

"You haven’t any idea of what I dream of. Of the thoughts that fill my head whenever you are near and when you are not.” He squeezed your hand. “I want you, lady, and I want all of you. I swear to you that once I have you in my bed, you shall rarely leave it.”

Your face was on fire and you closed your eyes in shame. You trembled and he released your hand so that he could play with a fold along your skirt.

“Even now, I think of pushing you back against this sofa and burying my head beneath these skirts. And when I finished, I would tear loose your modest bodice and reveal the womanly body you so piously keep from me. And I would have all of it. All of you.”

“Your highness,” You caught his hand and gasped.

“Kiss me,” He slid his hand from beneath yours and grabbed your chin. “Kiss me or I shall do it.”

You pressed your lips to his. His hand moved to cradle your face and he ran his tongue along your lips. You winced and opened your mouth. He slipped his tongue inside and you struggled to breath as he turned to crush you against the back of the sofa.

He parted, both of you out of breath, and slowly sat back. He hung his head as he collected himself. You stared at your sling and the way your hand trembled within.

“I can wait. I can.” He said as if convincing himself. “I promise you that this will be over soon. The new year will see this matter concluded.”

He stood and sniffed. He stretched and motioned to his footman. 

“I must retire for the night, my lady.” He announced. “See that you are well-rested. my tailor should visit tomorrow.”

“Your highness,” You rose and curtsied to him.

“You must start dressing the part,” He said as he neared the door, “And holding yourself as such.”

Hugh opened the door and waited for the king to precede him into the corridor. Steven looked back as he entered the hall and smirked just before he set off down the stone. His footsteps echoed until Marge stifled them with the door.

“My lady,” She turned to you, “Do you really think he means it?”

“I…” You slowly sat and touched your lips. “I think he does.”


	12. Chapter 12

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This Chapter: The yuletide arrives with many surprises.
> 
> Warnings: eventual dark elements (tags to be added as fic continues)
> 
> This is dark!(king)Steve and explicit. 18+ only.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, it’s part 12 and y’all are still here. This is where it really start to get messy. Trust me when I say we going on a wild ride and what better people to accompany me than all you lovely readers. Let me just say that you are all wonderful and amazing. This story wouldn’t be around if it wasn’t for you guys. 💋
> 
> <3 Let me know what you think with a comment. Love ya!

The kingdom was quiet. A blanket of snow muffled the winter winds as they battered the castle. The yuletide loomed and all were in a flurry to ready for the celebration. The biggest banquet of the year was to be held in the capital. A day of kindness and reverence to be marked with wine, dancing, and gifts.

As the occasion neared, it seemed as if all the courtly ado had faded away. At least, the whispers hushed and tensions eased, if only a little. The king persisted still and the queen seethed, but the stalemate had yet to break. Yet all the court was eager to forget the drama for the joviality of the season.

You walked with the ladies along the corridors from their morning prayers to the feast hall. That day, the ladies were to decorate the hall with silk streamers and snowflakes cut from vellum and dyed. The queen had been absent from breakfast, busied by her preparations for the impending feast.

You wore a blue gown striped with yellow; one of a dozen commissioned by the king. The cut was unlike your usual wardrobe; the neckline wide and square. You were unused to it and not entirely fond of the style. Nor the comments of the other ladies as they envied your new attired.

You walked with Marion at your side, Rose was behind you with Joan, Beatrice, and Mary. Her bodice had been let out a few inches for her growing stomach and her cheeks glowed with her condition. She seemed, since her marriage to the elder Lord Alan, as close to happy as you’d known her. You did not speak often but she did not, at least, hold the same animosity for you, though the queen remained spiteful of her rounding figure.

“The physicians says it should be a spring baby,” You heard Rose as you neared the feast hall. “A good omen.”

“And does he think it a girl or a boy?” Beatrice urged.

“He says a boy and prescribes red wine to ensure it,” She said. “I suppose I don’t mind either way.”

“And Lord Alan?” You glanced over your shoulder. “Does he yearn for a son?”

“Oh, he yearns for any child,” She sounded surprised at your question but not unkind. “You would think him young again the way he carries on.”

You turned back to your path as you came upon the doors to the hall. Servants stood with baskets and handed them to each lady as they passed through the doors. As you came up, you were stopped by the king’s guard, stood at the opposite wall in his mail and helm.

“Not her,” He said darkly. 

“What?” You blinked and peered past the servants into the feast hall. The queen was within and turned her back to you before your eyes could meet. “Why?”

“Queen’s orders,” He replied curtly. 

“But she must help us,” Marion grabbed your arm and tried to pull you through the door. The guard quickly seized your other arm.

“There are enough of you to manage,” He sneered. “Go on, lady, and return to your chambers.”

“Why does the queen banish her?” Rose touched her stomach as she came up beside you. “She did most of the work in making the decorations.”

“You know why, better than most,” The guard snarled. “Now go on.”

“If you’ll not let her in, we will not go either. Right, ladies?” Rose looked to her companions who were visibly nervous. 

“Don’t be a fool,” The guard warned.

“Why I was never kept from court myself so I do not see why she should be,” Rose insisted and you stared at her shocked. “At least call the queen forth so that we may hear it from her.”

“Rose, really,” You drew away from Marion and the guard cautiously released you. “I cannot blame the queen. It is very kind of you to defend me but…you know what this is.”

“The queen cannot blame you for her husband’s disloyalty.” Rose frowned. “And to be quite honest, she’s not so kind as you. Especially of late.”

“And why do you think that is?”

“How can she hold it against me still? Or you? She is unforgiving and worse; cruel.” Rose said. “We will go with you then. You should not be left alone.”

“Please, you would only make it worse.” You said softly. “You all go and ready the hall. I can’t wait to see it, though I must.”

Marion looked disappointed as Rose’s companions eyed her curiously. She had deterred their former distaste but none had been more than tolerable. 

“Go on, I am certain I can busy myself otherwise,” You assured them. “She is the queen and I’ve yet to be disobedient. Though she may see it else wise.”

The ladies looked to each other and you nodded. You stepped around them and did your best to hold your head up as you walked away from them. As you turned the corner, you fell against the wall and clasped your hand over your mouth.

You’d never been so humiliated. Worse, you’d never been so hurt. Despite the open hostility on the queen’s part, you’d not expected this. The women, regardless of their taste for intrigue, had offered you a sense of normalcy. Though the king propped you up, you still spent your days as they did. The same plain girl who’d attended court for the last two years.

Well, there was no place left for that girl.

👑

Hours after your ejection, a knock came at your door. Truly, it was better described as a hammering. Marge jumped up from her chair as you mended a fraying hem of a shift and you nodded for her to answer it. You rose as the king stormed in.

“You are upset, your highness?” You asked as you curtsied to him, your shift hanging from your hand.

“Of course I am,” He boomed. “Are you not?”

“Why should I be?” You asked.

“The queen. That she should cast you out.” He barked. “And without my consent. To spite me even.”

“It is not worth the anger,” You said calmly. “It gave me time to catch up on my own chores.”

“It–” He stopped short before he could begin to pace. “My lady, how can you be so forgiving?”

“Is that what it is?” You set aside your shift and turned back to him.“Your highness, I think perhaps I am just not prepared for all this.”

“Oh, don’t say that.” He said. “She is desperate. Can’t you see? She knows her position is false and so she deflects. She seeks to legitimize herself through you.”

“She clings to her husband,” You said softly. “As any woman would.”

“She insults you,” He touched your shoulder as he drew himself close. “I will not stand for it.”

“I am not hurt by it,” You assured him. “Your highness, it is a time for compassion. We need not languish upon something so vile. We can carry on.”

“I…” He looked into your eyes and sighed. He considered you for a moment. “You lie. You are hurt but you are too ashamed to say it.”

“And why should I say it?” You asked. “What would you do to punish her? If you forced her to take me back, how do you think she would receive me?”

“I suppose you are right, my lady,” He stroked your cheek with his fingertips. “She has already attempted to cripple you, I’d not put it past her again.”

“That is not known to be true,” You protested.

“Not yet, but I know it to be. In my heart, I am certain.” He brought his other hand up to frame your face. “You are too gentle. I…" 

He breathed and closed his eyes. "In moment such as these, I find it so difficult to resist you. To keep myself from my basest desires. It makes me impatient though I know our resolution is near.”

“Resolution?” You wondered and he slowly opened his eyes.

He smirked and leaned down to kiss you softly before he pulled away.

“You must be patient as I have,” He reproached. “But this yuletide will bring us many gifts. Many, indeed.”

👑

You looked in the glass as Marge held it up. You smoothed the beaded skirts and felt the taut bodice along your stomach. The sleeves left most of your shoulders bare, the trumpets long and wispy. The gown was heavy and unwieldy. Your cap matched it and sat atop your twisted plait.

You were to sit with ladies along their table. It felt, almost, as if nothing had changed. But it had and even acting as if it hadn’t could not repair the cracks. 

You glanced around as you took your seat, Marion to your left and Beatrice at your right. Rose sat with her husband along another table and your father proudly found his spot among the counselors. You thought wistfully of how your mother’s return had once more been delayed; this time by the weather. You wished she was there to guide you as you ventured further into the dark.

The hall was raucous with voices as lords and ladies awaited the arrival of their king and queen. You were on edge and uncomfortable. The bodice was tight and pinched your sides. The beading was not to your taste and the large polished opal at your throat pressed into your flesh.

When the horns blasted, the guests quieted and stood to receive the royal couple. It was a symphony that seemed to last for too long before the king and queen appeared. Steven’s arm was hooked through Eleanor’s and she wore her usual stoic smile. Even as she held her head up, there was a stiffness about her that foretold something more. Her husband was entirely unbothered; if not gleeful.

Their subjects bowed and you did your best to blend into the crowd. Yet there was no hiding anymore. You did not miss the king’s glance towards you, though it did not linger as usual. As he climbed up onto the royal dais, your eyes strayed ahead of him. You had been so swept up in your worries, you hadn’t noticed the third chair upon the platform. 

You squinted and looked along the table of nobles alongside the royal dais. Lord Barnes caught your eye and tilted his head. From so far away, you weren’t certain he was smirking, though he looked to be. It even appeared that he winked at you. You lowered your gaze and waited to sit.

“My subjects,” The king’s voice echoed across the hall, “As I welcome you to the yuletide celebration and wish you all a happy holiday, I also have a surprise for you all. For the kingdom as a whole. A visitor who shall bring us prosperity and peace.”

There was a low murmur through the crowd. A confusion that matched your own. You blinked as you looked around, searching for any hint of the king’s ploy. You turned back to the royal couple and noticed the queen’s tense smile. She looked at her husband from the corner of her eyes as she spoke. Her hands were clutched before her.

“So, let us welcome our honoured guest, a visitor to our kingdom for the weeks to come, who has traveled so far so that we may reach an accord to benefit his people as much as our own.” The king was buoyant, his voice timorous. “I introduce to you all and welcome him kindly to share in our yuletide and all that our realm has to offer; King T’challa of Wakanda.”

The horns blared again and you shared a wide-eyed gape with Marion before you looked to the doors once more. The foreign king was preceded by his retinue, a dozen lords in silver trimmed black with braided belts and furred caps. Their king was clothed in brocade as white as snow with silver ornaments. He smiled at his host and graciously waved to the nobles. 

The foreign retinue filled one of the lower tables as their king climbed up to the dais. A guard followed closely and stood behind the royal seats. To your surprise, the guard looked to be female. King T’challa and Steven greeted each other joyously and as they turned to the queen, her smile threatened to waver. She bowed her head and welcomed the visitor.

“King T’challa,” The king boomed as he stepped in front of his chair between his queen and his royal guest. “We hope you shall enjoy your time here, but first, do join us in our yuletide feast.”

“I thank you, King Steven,” T’challa returned with an eloquent accent. “I have no doubt that I shall enjoy my sojourn very much.”

With that, the royals sat and their subjects followed. The benches and chaired creaked in unison as fabric wished and wood scraped on stone.

You couldn’t take your eyes off Eleanor as you sat. She seemed almost afraid. Her husband spoke amiably to the man beside him as she seemed to hide behind his other shoulder. You’d seen many sides of her in the last months; kind, angry, hurt… but never so meek. 

There was more to the king’s visit than diplomacy but you could not guess at what.

👑

When the dancing began, the king did not seek you out. You were not disappointed, rather relieved. Instead he took Eleanor’s hand and led her to the middle of the floor. King T'challa was paired with Diana as her husband dismissed the entertainment for his cup.

You stood along the wall and pondered the spinning bodies. Perhaps all was as it was before. It had all just fallen into place and you were just the girl in the corner. You’d liked to have believed it, but life was never so simple. Especially at court.

You were drawn from your reverie as a shadow blurred the edge of your vision. You turned to the disturbance. Lord Barnes bowed to you and took your hand to kiss it. You watched him dully as he stood straight and smiled back at you. His dark hair and cornflower overcoat made his blue eyes shine. You lowered your chin and looked up at him warily.

“My lady,” He greeted. 

“Lord Barnes,” You said stiffly.

“Would you put to waste a new dress at the yuletide?” He prodded. “I must say, it is likely the most ravishing I’ve seen you.”

“Am I to blush at a compliment such as that?” You returned. “You’ve the tact of a sailor stranded in the mountains.”

“Oh, do we wilt my lady as the sun shines elsewhere?” He mused.

“I merely rest in the shade before the sun moves,” You assured him. “A respite from its intolerable beams.”

“And if I did ask you to come out from the shadows, would you accept?”

“It depends, do you ask?”

He scoffed and shrugged. He grinned as he glanced around the hall. “I do. I could not let you linger, my lady. How sad it is your heavy feet do chase off so many prospects.”

“I do not find it very sad at all. It does allow me a rare solitary.” You countered and he looked rather unimpressed.

“I will not ask again.”

“I will not accept again.”

He looked at you pointedly and raised his hand. You took it and he drew you out amidst the bodies of dancers. He faced you as he began the steps; you followed as best you could, barely missing his toes. He peeked down to avoid your feet and you chuckled.

“And were you aware of our visitor?” You pondered. “You did not seem so baffled by his appearance.”

“Our king cannot arrange such a surprise upon his own,” He raised his head as he glanced across the hall. “I did aid him in secreting the second king into the capital. A task amid the snowfall.”

“How very daring,” You said dryly.

“I should think much more than weaving a needle,” He retorted. 

“And what of our queen? She did seem rather nonplussed by her guest,” You said. 

“As she would be,” He affirmed. “You do know she is formerly acquainted with his majesty.”

You shook your head and you lifted your brows. “I did not.”

“Her father was at war with his and when the war did end, T’Chaka sent his son to be ward in her land. They were betrothed as a peace accord and she was to return with him to Wakanda.” Barnes explained. “Until another conflict arose between the countries and the prince was recalled home. There were whispers of war but rumours do not dissolve a contract. Even so, the princess accepted another with our king. I think you can surmise from there how it went.”

You frowned as you thought. You recalled what the king had alluded to before; his questions of his marriage’s legitimacy. You exhaled slowly and averted your gaze from the man before you. Your eyes landed on another who watched; Steven stared past Eleanor as he watched you dance.

“And? What can he do with that now? They married without opposition. They’ve remained as such for over ten years.” You kept your voice low. “What can he gain from bringing him here now?”

“More than she can,” Bucky answered. “He is a reminder of the ambiguity of the union. A bolster to our king’s desire.”

“I do wonder, Lord Barnes, at your role in all this.”

“I am a loyal subject.”

“I do not ask of your place in this court, but I question your intent. Towards the king, towards the queen, towards me.” You insisted. “Do you too bolster his desire?”

“You think I tricked you,” His smile fell. “I assure you, lady, I did not.”

“You know him well. Better than any.”

“Perhaps not so well as I thought.” He said. “I thought…well, I’ve seen him rebuffed by Eleanor and he walks away. Leaves her be because he’d rather another more pliable.”

“And yet he would chase me through the halls.” You crinkled your brow doubtfully. “The same man.”

“I assure you, it was no trick, merely a misconception on my part.” He looked down and you crushed his toe. He barely flinched. “My own arrogance. For he changes and I have not noticed and I am too proud to admit it.”

You considered his words. You were silent for a moment and the music enshrined your bodies as you swayed in time. You saw the king as he wove between the guests. Behind him, T’Challa danced with Eleanor. She was pale and not so graceful on her feet as usual. As Steven neared, you stopped and Barnes was nearly toppled by your suddenness.

“Your highness,” You let go of Barnes and curtsied. The lord bowed in turn.

“My lady,” The king smiled. “I find myself without a partner.” He turned to Barnes, “Forgive me, my lord, but I think to steal yours for a jig.”

“Not at all,” Barnes said evenly. “I would like a moment off my feet as it were.”

“Very well,” The king smiled and dismissed his friend with a nod. He turned to you and his eyes traversed your figure. “My lady, you look even more wonderful than I expected. The fabric is most becoming.”

“Thank you, your highness,” You let him take your hand. 

“I dare say…” He lowered his voice as he guided you. “You look almost like a queen.”

You gulped and tried to hide your discomfort. Your lips trembled as you smiled and you looked away bashfully. “Your highness…”

“ _Almost…_ ” He repeated. “No, my lady, you do.”

“You flatter me.”

“My lady, I do prepare you for what is to come,” He said. “As I have sworn to you, it begins to boil over and when the water does cool, we will have rid ourselves of ill humours.”

“Why?” You breathed as you looked up at him. “After all these years, why now?”

“The time did loom anon,” His eyes dilated as he stared down at you. “But my lady, you made it even more pressing.”


	13. Chapter 13

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This Chapter: The reader counts her allies and enemies.
> 
> Warnings: eventual dark elements (tags to be added as fic continues)
> 
> This is dark!(king)Steve and explicit. 18+ only.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Part 13. Maybe it’s unlucky but who knows. I had a terrible migraine at work but I managed to get this done after on the bus ride home. Things are starting to get wild over here and it’s all going to start coming together. Thank you all in advance. You’re all so wonderful.💋
> 
> <3 Let me know what you think with a comment :) Love ya!

Since your banishment from the queen's court, you'd spent your days very much alone. Even more lonesome since the yuletide. The new year approached as your optimism sank. 

Marion reported to you the current gossip though you listened without much heed. The entire court hung from a fraying string, fearfully awaiting the snap. From what she said, the queen's mood had not improved since your absence and surely dampened since the arrival of the Wakandan king.

That morning, you attended mass and returned to your rooms to eat alone. It had become your routine as the queen required her ladies at her own table. Though, when you reached your chambers, you found visitors awaiting you. Unexpected and surely unwelcomed.

The king stood with his back to you as you approached and your father was at his side, impatiently fidgeting. Two guards in royal mail and a servant accompanied the pair. 

Your father turned as your slippers skidded along the stone and he muttered to the king. Steven turned to bow as you neared. You curtsied as you stopped before them.

"Your highness, I was not expecting you." You said. "I should think your royal visitor keeps you occupied."

"King T'Challa did excuse me for the morning so I thought to sup with you," He declared. "I do regret my resent neglect, my lady, but my kingly duties do keep me busy."

"As they would," You nodded and looked to your other visitor. "Father."

"My dear daughter," His tone was sickly and you fought the urge to recoil.

"Well, I should send Marge for more than my usual fare. She was not prepared for guests and she does not bring a feast for only me."

"I will send Stanley," He motioned to the red-headed attendant who hid along the wall. "Boy, go to the kitchens."

"Your highness," The servant bowed before he scurried off.

"Keep Marge here to attend to us. I assume you've some wine on hand." He intoned as he motioned to the door. 

"Only that you've sent me. I've not an occasion to uncork it." You said as you went to the door and pushed the lever. 

As the door slowly fell inward before you, you felt a force pull it from the other side. Marge bowed as she welcomed you within. You stepped back to allow the king to precede you.

As you followed, Marge closed the door and the King sat himself around your painted table. The guards remained without to see to the door. Your father slowly approached the table and lowered himself carefully opposite the king.

Your eyes strayed to an object shrouded beneath silk just beside the hearth. It had not been there when you left. You peeked at the king who watched you and smiled at your curiosity.

"I did have it sent this morning during mass." He explained,"I thought to be here when you revealed it."

"You did not need to, your highness."

"Oh, but I could not present you your yuletide gift at the feast. And unfortunately it had not yet been completed." He leaned back, and hand on his thigh as he splayed his legs out before him. "Please."

"Marge, if you would pour some wine," You directed the servant and turned back to the silk-shrouded surprise. You neared and looked back at the king as your maid set out cups. "You've already given me so much."

"Oh, I cannot wait much longer, please," He begged. You could not guess if he referred to his present or yourself.

You smiled and turned to reach out for the cloth. At a single tug it began to fall and a rush of air escaped it as it crumpled to the floor. Beneath, a large carved frame painted with gilt encased a portrait of the king. The paint was vibrant and fresh. He was older in this than the one above your mantle; his trimmed beard a contrast to the shaven prince who watched you nightly. 

"Your highness," You breathed as you stared at it. "Why it's...marvelous."

"My lady, you are so gracious," He remarked. "I shall have it hung for you after we sup... I could have the old one taken to your chamber."

You raised your brows as you turned back to him. It was a prurient suggestion though your father only grinned at it. You struggled to keep your smile in place. 

"My king, I should only like this one," You waved to the painting. "For it is entirely mine."

"My lady," He purred. "Please, come sit and have some wine."

You dipped your head and crossed to sit beside your father at the round table. Steven pushed a cup toward you before he took his own. 

"I've heard you spent much of your holiday alone," He began. "Eleanor does continue in her spite."

"I have had many visitors." You assured him. "And I find time alone can be productive."

"But you should not be exiled thus. You've committed no offense," Your father intoned. "Can you not sway the queen to rescind her ban, your highness?"

"I could but I should fear at the consequences. She has once tried to harm your daughter and I would not so quickly thrust her into danger."

"It is not necessary," You agreed. "I've caused enough scandal and I should avoid it if I could."

"You are wise, lady," The king praised. "One of the many virtues I admire in you."

You sipped from your wine and a knock came at the door. The red-headed servant entered with a large tray and another black-haired servant followed him. The platters were set upon the table and uncovered. 

"Boy," The king took his fork and speared a rasher. "If you would."

You blinked, confused. The king let the servant take the meat with his fingers and looked to you. 

"My lady, as king, I cannot sup without my taster," He said as he leaned back and poked a piece of egg onto his tines. "It is an unfortunate reality of the position."

He handed over the egg to the servant who ate it just as diligently. You watched him chew tentatively as the king exhaled. Your father sent a look your way as if to say _this is your new life...and mine too._

"We shall wait before we begin, just in ca--" 

The king did not finish as the servant coughed. He cleared his throat and gasped. For a moment, it only seemed that he had choked. And then he began to change colour; his already rosy cheeks turned bright and the colour spread to his forehead and neck. 

Horror overcame the king as he watched the boy fall to his knees. The king stood and backed away as the servant sprawled across the carpet and writhed. The other servant covered their mouth in shock and Marge gasped aloud. Your own throat tightened as you looked at your cup, but the boy had not yet drank the wine.

"Guards," The king called. "Guards. In here, now."

The door opened and the men rushed in. They stood back as the boy sputtered in his death thralls. Steven's eyes flared and he looked to the other servant. 

"Seize him," He pointed to the dark-haired man. "And send for my physician."

The guards fell upon the servant and dragged him away. You stared down at the boy as he stilled upon your carpet. You were shaking.

"Your highness…" Your voice wisped. "I think it too late for the physician."

"It is, surely," He rounded the table to you as your father blinked at the dead boy. "But he can tell us what poison was ministered to my food."

"Your high…" You felt as if you couldn't breathe as your eyes clung to the servant's crimson face. "I think...I think...oh."

"My lady, do not look at him," The king pleaded and set himself between you and the boy. "Do not look." He took your hands and pulled you to your feet. "You tremble, my lady."

"I do, I do," You clung to him as your legs threatened to collapse beneath you. "For I see my fate upon the floor."

"No, no, it shall not be," He assured you. "I will not let it be."

"You've done this," You hissed and tried to pull away. "You've brought this danger upon me and--and I shall die for your lust."

"My lady, you are hysterical. It is understandable but you should not speak thus."

"I told you I didn't want this. I told you and now this boy has died…" The tears welled in your eyes and you choked on them. "Oh, what have you done? What have you done?"

As you began to bawl, the king pulled you against him and wrapped his arm around you. You struggled against him but he was strong and unyielding.

"Maid," He called to Marge, "Pour some more wine to calm the lady. Lord Willis, gather the council." His voice flowed through you as he spoke with your ear to his chest. "We must trace the culprit before they should have time to hide."

👑

There was a guard at your door. Since the king's departure, the mailed sentinel had remained. You sat, quiet and unmoving, before the hearth. Marge was pale as she awaited an order, any word. But there wasn't anything you could say.

Steven looked down at you from the portrait. It was no longer the boyish prince but the determined king. His blue eyes burned though they were jot but oil. His blond hair as golden as the medal hung at his chest. As you could not escape him, you could not elude the gaze of his likeness.

The boy had been upon your floor for hours. The physician examined the corpse and did declare a most potent killer. Though none could figure if it was meant for the king or you. It mattered little for you both had enemies. Some, one and the same.

You were tired but you knew you would not sleep. It wasn't very late anyway. Though the day had felt an eternity, it still was and so were you.

When Marge stood, you looked to her blankly. She went to the door but you hadn't heard the rapping. She opened it to reveal several figures who swept in in shades of pink, blue, and green. Your eyes focused slowly as the women stood before you; ladies rather.

Rose led the pack as she always had. Even with a likely bastard in her womb and a marriage sewn in lies, she bore it all with elegance. You admired her for a moment. Then it all came back and you hung your head again.

"Oh, we heard of the incident," Rose said. "We did worry so."

"The whole court speaks of it." Joan added. "Poison!"

"Do not be so dramatic, " Rose warned. "She is quite fine. Her fortune has proven as reliable as ever."

"Fortune," You grumbled and raised your eyes to the ladies. "If I could think to call it that."

"Fortunate that the king was near, his taster too." Rose said. "Oh, I should like a seat."

"Sit." You looked at them, each expectant. "You can all...sit. you needn't await an invitation."

"Fortunate yet that the king does remain loyal, " Rose continued as she lowered herself. "And he should leave guards to see you safe."

"You know his kindness," You returned. "You know it comes at a price."

"I know he can be as kind as he can be heartless," Rose touched her stomach. "He might have been unloving in denying my child but he did see me married to a man who will see me well."

You sighed and touched your bare hair. Your hood was overturned on the table beside your chair. "I should offer you a drink but I do not trust that even."

"You must know how enviable your position is," Beatrice insisted. "The whole kingdom can guess at the king's intent."

"And what do they think of it? They will hate me. If he can will himself from his marriage, what will I be but a usurper?" You bemoaned.

"Ha, the court does love the queen but the people in the countryside, those who sow the fields and the merchants in their stalls?" Joan laughed. "It used to be that queens were born of the country. That they did attend to the commonfolk and give alms. They did not hide away in a castle and play with jewels."

"The queen--" 

"Has excised herself from the last two progressions. The king has traveled without his queen and seen to his people. Alone." Rose supplied. "And he is still without heir and the queen does age by the day."

"That cannot be enough."

"It is something," Rose lifted her brow. "My father has sat upon the council longer than yours. He knows the kingdom, knows the people."

"The people are fickle."

"The people are sentimental. They look to the royals with dreams in their heads. They see a king who does not love his wife and they will hear of a queen and a former lover."

"And a marriage…" You countered.

"A dishonest princess who lied. A king who is in love but constrained." Rose's eyes lowered. "As much as I wish it were me, it's not, but I know you'd be a kinder queen than Eleanor."

"It is a fleeting love. Should our marriage last ten years? One, even? If marriage is what he truly means and not a promise upon his own benefit." You shook your head. 

"It has been what? Two months? More?" Rose said. "And have you lain with him?" 

She waited for an answer but you could not find the courage to give one. 

"I can tell you have not and yet he persists. He is determined. He will not relent." She rubbed her stomach and gave you a bittersweet smile. "Tell me, what happened after?"

You squinted quizzically.

"After the boy died. Did the king leave you?"

"Not immediately." You replied. "I was… distraught." 

"You were distraught so he lingered, yes?" She prodded. "And?"

"He...held me. For a time and calmed me." You blinked as you thought back hazily.

"And did...did he try to do anything more?

You looked at her and thought. The king had sat you down and rubbed your shoulder as you drank a cup of wine. He assured you he would find the murderer. He waited until you were no longer trembling.

"No."

"He never once was near me without an advance. Never without the thought of my skirts." She said, almost sour. "Take his love, or however close he can get." She held your eyes with hers. "It might just keep you alive."

You stared at her. You were in utter disbelief. That this woman who had once sworn you to be her enemy would now offer you advice. That her words made sense. That she could even be right. 

And as you thought of the queen’s contempt, the wild horse, and the dead boy on your floor, you looked to the king upon your wall. He remained stoic and imposing but there was more to his eyes. More than oil and canvas. 

_In a man such as him, was love so different from lust?_


	14. Chapter 14

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This Chapter: The reader speaks with the king.
> 
> Warnings: eventual dark elements (tags to be added as fic continues)
> 
> This is dark!(king)Steve and explicit. 18+ only.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay. Tomorrow is an early morning and I dunno if I’ll be posting but hey, 14 days in a row is fine, right? Let’s not worry about that though. We have some royal intrigue ahead of us and I know we’re all impatient but we’re going to have to take our time as it all comes to a head.💋 😉 I know what y’all are really waiting for lol.
> 
> <3 Let me know what you think with a comment! Love ya!

A week ago, you would’ve resented the king’s surveillance. His insistence that you travel with a guard and only under his blessing. You were cloistered in his concern but you could not spurn it. For you were afraid. Truly.

That morning after you supped, you requested a walk of the palace corridors. Marge returned with the king’s permission but the guard who stood vigilantly at your door was to accompany you. His sword always at the ready; both alarming and assuring.

The castle was airy as the winter descended upon the new year. You wore a thin cloak over your gown as you traversed the ancient halls. The guard’s sword tinkled against his belt as Marge’s shivers whispered in your ear. Your own breath mingled with the beating of your heart in an ominous symphony.

You neared the royal corridors along your aimless path and paused just before that which led to Eleanor’s chambers. You looked to your escorts and crept a few feet nearer. You turned to look up at the tapestry beside her doors.

The rosettes stuck out from the field and gave lifelike bloom to the grasses. You tilted your head as you took in the expanse of cloth and thread. There it was; that twist of cloth which marked the last day you’d been yourself.

“My lady,” Marge said softly. “Are you well?”

“Well enough,” You answered as you leaned closer to the wall.

“Should we linger here?” She breathed as the guard gripped his pommel.

“Do you think the queen should emerge and slay me where I stand?” You asked dryly. 

Marge frowned and shook her head. You turned away from the fabric and retreated from the corridor. 

“Let us continue our walk. Perhaps I should see to my father when he is free of council.” You mulled. “Or perhaps we shall return as we were.”

Upon the next corner, you heard the noise of approaching footsteps. Your guard stepped before you and slowed. Shadows reflected in lantern light as the figures neared and emerged at the end of the corridor. Your guard relaxed and stood at alert as you bowed in greeting of the unexpected royal. 

King T'Challa did not pass though. He instead stopped to greet you, almost as if he knew you.

“Your highness,” You said.

“My lady,” He nodded to you and smiled. “Do you tarry alone?”

“Alone?” You looked to Marge who looked to the floor shyly. “I have my maid.”

“But should you not be in attendance of your queen?” He asked.

“She has pardoned me from her court,” You replied carefully. “So I attend to myself.”

“Oh,” He considered you as thoughts glimmered in his eyes. “Not many queens would tolerate a paramour in her court.”

You averted your eyes in shame. 

“Do not think I judge you, my lady,” He continued. “I am only curious. I hear things and they do intrigue me. They say you are devious and calculating, others allege you to be pious and humble. I suspect they are all true." 

"Your highness?” You looked to him.

“You are calculating in that you did heed the king’s reputation, devious in that you would withhold any particular leaning to save your own, pious in that you worship your honour, and humble in that you cannot see what a mess you’ve created.” He smiled proudly. “Do not think my words to be unkind, for without even knowing you, I do admire you.”

“Admire?” You echoed. “For what?”

“For your resolve. For withstanding a storm that would tear many apart.” He said. “My lady, would you be averse to me walking with you?”

“I would not refuse such an offer,” You accepted evenly. 

“Even now, you maintain your courtesy,” He remarked. “And you bide my bald words.”

He turned so that he was shoulder to shoulder with you, Marge retreated to walk with the guards. The king awaited your first step and you hesitated before you took it.

“I suppose I cannot find where to disagree with them.” You countered. 

“Mmm,” He hummed thoughtfully. “I do wonder… after all I’ve heard of you and your snaring of the king. Why, my lady, I might offend you again but you are rather plain for a seductress.”

“I am aware,” You said stiffly. “Believe me when I say I am just as shocked as any at my circumstance and wholly unprepared.”

“And what would prepare you? What should make a lady ready for a king?” He pondered. “Do you think you should be like Queen Eleanor?”

“She is strong. Bred to be a queen.” You said. “She is better made for it than me.”

“A queen who has sewn discord among her court and without.” He looked to you as he spoke. “I am certain you have heard of my pre-standing relationship with the queen.”

“I’ve heard as much as you have of me,” You said.

“So you would. She’s barely changed since I knew her. Colder, perhaps.” He mused. “I thought I did love her until I realized she did not love me.”

You lowered your brow as he let his eyes float ahead of him.

“We were betrothed. I’d lived among her family for years. We spent hours a day together and I was quite taken by her. As any boy would be. 

“But when I was recalled home and war loomed over us, I did swear to her I would appease my father so that we may still marry. So that we could one day rule over our kingdoms peacefully. Together.”

He paused and let out a long breath. “She told me she could not wait to be my queen and I thought she meant it. The next I heard of her, she’d set sail for another prince.”

“Why are you telling me this?” You asked. 

“Because I am certain you know how Eleanor can be. One moment she is your friend and the next, she’s not." 

He stopped and turned to you as you struggled not to trip on your skirts. 

"Eleanor’s spies learned of my visit the day before I reached the capital. She did try to have them keep me from my arrival. She failed.” He shook his head as a wistful air came over him. “I do not trust your king either but he has yet to betray me as Eleanor did. In so much as I can fathom it, she has betrayed us both.”

“And so what? You seek kinship with him? A shared loathing?”

“I intend to rescue my reputation which has so long been stained by Eleanor and what she has done to me.” His jaw set as he held his shoulders high. “I seek to repay the queen in kind.”

“And what would be my role in all this?” You asked.

“Your role is at has been. If you remain as you are, you might just get out of this alive.” He looked to his guard and nodded. “My lady, I shall leave you to your path as mine would diverge here, thought I am certain they will meet again.”

He bowed his head and you returned the courtesy. He smiled kindly and turned sharply on his heel. You watched him go. You were stuck in place as the thoughts flurried in your head. Those which hadn’t ceased for days now. Though this king had added to the list. 

As he disappeared around the next corner, you wondered if he offered you advice or issued you a threat.

👑 

That night, you went to the king to sup. His invitation had been firm and without refusal. Since the servant boy’s demise, he was ever more insistent. Ever more demanding. Often, you found his presence overbearing; at one moment, entirely inflamed in his anger and the next consumed by his affections.

When his doors were opened to you, you stepped within nervously. You still weren’t used to his chambers. The skin carpet before the heart, the large desk that loomed before the window, the twin tapestries along the east and west walls, and the grated candelabrum which hung from the ceiling. 

Hugh remained and the replacement for the royal taster. This one lanky and blond, almost fearful as he but into the food. You couldn’t blame him for as you watched him, you saw the red-headed boy open your carpet. Though this one did not keel over.

You sat across from the king as he ate with one hand and in the other shuffled through sheets of parchment. His blue eyes were vigilant as if the letters would move should he look away. 

You watched him as you ate. He rubbed his eyes as he set aside a page and leaned back. The wrinkles left his brow as he looked to you.

“I am happy to see you eating, my lady,” He said. “You seem not so wary.”

“I remain cautious,“ You assured him. "As this court remains treacherous.”

“Oh, but we should search out the snake that does hide in the branches and drain its venom before its fangs should sink too deep.”

“May I ask…” You began and caught yourself. “I dare not.”

“Well, you’ve begun so you may.” He drank from his wine and picked at his plate.

“I do worry at the presence of the Wakandan king. Of what should precipitate such a spontaneous invitation.”

“You should worry of the presence which remained without invitation,” He took another bite and wiped his mouth. “Of one who wishes you harm. Perhaps even wishes it upon myself.”

“Then…” You began tentatively and he tilted his head. “Would it be wiser to send me away until they are found out? Until these ill tides wash over?”

“Send you away?” He sat back so heavily his chair wobbled. “So that they may have you upon your own. May see you vulnerable and far away.”

“I would not be alone. I would see my mother and sister.” You argued. “They have a household, and security of their own. Edward does keep my sister well looked after.”

“No, you are safe here. With me.” He snarled. “You are safest close to me and I will not, _cannot_ , be without you.”

“Your highness,” You reached to him and placed your hand on his. “I am afraid.”

“I know, I know,” He softened and turned his hand to grip yours. “But I shall see you safe, my lady. My love.” He tugged until you rose and pulled you to stand before him. “For I fear for you too and that drives me to see that you are kept well.”

“Your highness,” You lowered your lashes, “I thank you for your care but ask that you do consider my request further.”

“I shall consider it,” His hand trailed along your bodice and he played with the braided belt at your waist. “But you will not leave me. Ever.”

“And will you answer my first question?” You asked as he took your hand again and admired it.

“You are in need of rings,” He commented. “Rubies. Maybe a sapphire.”

“You elude me again.” You accused.

“I do not elude, only delay…” He looked up at you, “Because I cannot help but admire you.”

“Well, then I await an answer, your highness,” You said.

“Sit,” He drew you between his knees and sat back. “And I shall tell you then.”

You looked at him. He grinned and watched you patiently. You turned and lowered yourself into his leg. Your skirts fanned put around you both. You found, as Rose advised, to appease him was easy and most times, convenient.

His hand hovered along your back and he beamed up at you. 

“You asked why the Wakandan king should be here. You are clever and you see beyond my courtly explanations. A good omen for your future.” He preened.

“I saw the queen’s reaction as did many others.” You said. “I saw her discomfort, her unhappiness deeper than before.”

“So you can guess that she knows the king.” Steven led you. “And that he does threaten her current position.”

“I see not how he could intimidate her,” You baited as you blinked in a show of confusion. “She is a queen, he is a king. They are of separate kingdoms, ordained in their own right.”

“Oh, you are young and, despite your wisdom, still naive,” His hand spread over your hip and squeezed. “The queen does put herself in a perilous position so that she may be easily toppled.

"And she is aware of it so she fears any. King T'Challa, me, you. And behind her paranoia is guilt, though that has yet to come to light. Though I do peer into the dark.”

“And what shall the people think?” You asked.

“What I tell them to think. What the truth tells them to think.” His arm was full against you as his hand was tight along your side. “They want a queen who loves them. A queen who is kind. A queen who can give them hope… an heir.”

“Eleanor is young still.” You argued.

“She has been young for many years and she does not quicken. She would say I strayed far too much to see to an heir but I laid with her as much as any woman.” His eyes bore into you as his other hand fluttered along your thigh.“But this past year, she does not yield to me. She does not even try.”

“And you’ve gone to her?”

“Not in some time but only for when I dared to visit she did bicker with me.” He sighed. “I could have not begot and heir if I’d tried, she does hate me so.”

“And you would try no further?” You prodded.

“She would not let me and there is not to try for. ” He grieved. “An heir must be lawful or he may not sit the throne.”

You held his eye then looked to your hands as they clung to each other. His hand closed on your skirts and he squeezed your thigh through the layers. You winced and raised your head. 

He was aflame as he leaned in. His arm snaked up your back as he grabbed your head and pressed his lips to yours. You pushed on his chest as he kissed you. He did not relent until you were out of breath. 

“Your highness,” You breathed but stayed in his lap, too afraid to move.

“I… must have you.” He purred.

“We cannot–”

His arms cradled you suddenly and he stood with you aloft. You clung to him to keep from slipping, dizzy from the sudden movement. He kissed you again as he walked blindly around his chair. You squirmed and he hummed onto your mouth.

When he parted, you gasped, your cheeks burned. “It would not be lawful. As you said…" 

"Hugh, you may leave us.” He said.

“Your highness,” You pleaded as Hugh started for the door. “Please. You would ruin us both. Have we not waited this long?" 

The king took you to the couch and laid you down beneath him as you struggled. He had you pinned, his hand around your chin. He snarled at you, his nose almost touched yours.

"We do not wait on your accord anymore, my lady,” He rasped. “I am your king. Do you feel how easy it would be? How simply I could have you?”

“I do,” You gulped as he crushed you under him. He forced his knee between yours as you shoved on his shoulders weakly. Hugh’s footsteps continued. “I do. Would you? For one night? For if you do that’s all it could be.”

He smirked and rubbed his nose against yours. “Hugh, you may remain,” He said as he removed himself from you. “Let you be witness to our shared abstinence.”

His voice was dull and irritated. You pushed yourself up and drew your legs away from him as he sat back entirely. You felt almost hurt by his demeanour as his blue eyes stared at the carpet and he moped.

“Your highness,” You said softly but he didn’t respond. “Steven?”

His lashes flicked and he looked to you. The tension left his jaw and he nodded.

“I’m…sorry.”

“I am, too,” He said as he took your hand. “But you are right. This will be over soon and we cannot spoil it in a single evening.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Heyo, just a reminder that y'all are awesome. the response to this has been staggering and I've not had much chance to respond to everyone but I want you all to know that I read every comment and I love you so much. Your discussions, your comments, your feedback, have kept this going and me going because I can't think of anything else. I can't wait for what's to come next and hope that eventually (lol) we can finish this journey together because it might be a little long!  
> Again thank you. You are appreciated, your are loved, and you are amazing. :)


	15. Chapter 15

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This Chapter: The pieces begin to move.
> 
> Warnings: eventual dark elements (tags to be added as fic continues)
> 
> This is dark!(king)Steve and explicit. 18+ only.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alright I eked out another chapter so here we go, on 15! already. What the hell y’all? This is wild. I mean come on. Wowee. Anyways, I’m running out of ways to thank you guys so just read the chapter already, lol.
> 
> <3 Let me know what you think with a comment! Love ya!

There was a bench on the upper floors where you liked to sit and watch the snow fall. Since your isolation, it had become ritual. You and Marge would perch on the wooden seat and stare out into the royal gardens, the hedges barren and coated in white. The sky was a pale shade of grey and the castle wall loomed like a giant sleeping beneath the snow. You found yourself lulled but the rare sense of peace.

_Close_ to peace. It was hard to forget all that had consumed the court with a guard at your back. It was harder to escape the fixation which had overcome all; the two kings in the single castle. Steven and T’Challa met daily and spent many hours together; whether alongside council or otherwise. And when they were apart, you were often in the presence of your king.

It was only a few days since your encounter with T’Challa. The king was well-received within the kingdom by your father’s accounts and despite the underlying scandal, there was a sense of joy left over from the yuletide; albeit, only among those able to indulge it.

Footsteps approached from around the corner and you glanced over at the shadow which appeared before its owner. Your guard turned to watch Lord Barnes as he strode swiftly through the corridor. The dark-haired noble nodded as he approached the sentinel and stopped short to bow to you in kind. He was fidgety and impatient.

“Lord Barnes,” You rose and curtsied to him as the bench separated you. “What has you in such a hurry?”

“Courtly business,” he said brusquely. “Most pressing.”

“Is that it?” You squinted. “You’ve never seemed so bothered by courtly business.”

“When it is such as this, I must be bothered,” He countered. “Why do you linger in the corridor, lady?”

“I haven’t anywhere else to linger,” You replied. “I am without my own business these days.”

“Only the king’s,” His lips curved slightly as his own quip. 

“Only the king’s,” You affirmed. “As I’m sure you’ve been occupied. I’ve not seen you quite so often since the yuletide.”

“You never saw me very often before,” He returned. “My apologies if I am curt but I should be upon my way.”

“I should let you on your way if you tell me what calls you so urgently.” You watched his blue eyes as they strayed down the hall. 

“I suppose… you will not hear it otherwise,” He sighed. “A warrant has been served upon Ladies Stark and Wilson. They’ve surrendered to custody this morning during their attendance of the queen. They’ve been taken to the Fort.”

“Arrested?” You gasped and looked to Marge. “For what?”

“I cannot speak further on this,” He said. “I must go and you should return to your chambers. News will reach you shortly. Good day.”

He bowed his head and turned on his heel. You blinked and scurried around the bench. “No, no, Lord Barnes,” You called after him as you followed. “I would surmise you do go to the king.”

“You would suppose correct,” He kept his strides long and harried. “And I would be overdue.”

“Then I shall accompany you for I must see him, too,” You insisted as you finally came up next to him. Marge and your guard followed behind.

“You should wait,” He peeked over at you. “He will be engaged already.”

“I tire of waiting on him,” You said. “You may tell him I forced myself upon you, but I _will_ see him.”

“Lord, if it wasn’t for that mailed bastard behind me I’d drag you back to your chambers myself and lock you up,” He grumbled, “And I suppose that’d be the only obstacle to keep you from your intent.”

“It would,” You assured him and raised your chin as you lifted skirts to keep pace with him. “Though perhaps it would be just as amusing to have you fight my guard.”

He grunted but said nothing further. He walked silently at your side, eyes set ahead of him as his impatience radiated around you. When you reached the king’s chambers, the guards greeted you with a pair of nods and one knocked on the large wooden doors. It was opened without delay.

Barnes waited for you to enter first and several men sat already with the king; including your own father. They looked to you and stood as the king did. Confusion marred his face as he glanced between you and Lord Barnes.

“My lady, what are you-- I--” He stopped himself and huffed. “My lords, if you would continue onto the council chambers, I do have matters to attend to. Lord Barnes if you would remain.”

The king crossed his arms as he waited for his commands to be obeyed. Your father rose with the five other men and passed you with a pointed look. “Mind yourself, daughter,” He breathed before he slipped through the door. The footsteps shuffled out into the hall until at last the door was closed behind you.

“I asked you to come alone, Buck,” The king said. 

“I did not ask her to come, she insisted upon it,” He shook his head. “If it were up to me, I’d have strapped her down but your damned dog does follow at her heels.”

“That damned dog’s bite is keeping her safe,” The king retorted. “It doesn’t matter. She is here…” He paused and looked to you. “Why?”

“Do you think I do not grow frustrated by the oblivion you keep me in, your highness?” You neared slowly and stopped just behind the chairs which faced his large desk. “Would you blame my curiosity that I should know why you’ve have two of the queen’s ladies accosted?”

“It was their husbands who turned them in,” He said. “They came to me and they did say that their wives spoke the most traitorous words. As king, with a poisoning so recent, I cannot let them away.”

“Traitorous words? Whatever could they have said?” You asked as you brought a hand up to grip the back of the chair.

“They’ve merely been taken to be interviewed, my lady,” The king sniffed. “I did not tell you because I did hope to spare you the worry. For a time, at least. You have been so distressed, I would not further your difficulties.”

“To be interviewed? In the Fort?” You crinkled your brow. “My king, I can admit my naivete, but I will not feign stupidity.”

“Can you not guess at what they may be asked? At what they will surely admit?” Steven planted his hands on his desk as he leaned on it. “I do this to keep us safe. To keep you safe.”

“And I do know that, I do,” You clutched your hands together. “But I would not have another hurt for my well-being. And upon what suspicion? Upon what proof?”

“Upon the boy who did die upon your chamber floor,” Steven insisted. “Upon the fear that does claw at my heart constantly. For the love I have for you.”

“Your love is kind, I should hate to see it turn so cruel upon others,” You said. “Would you not have mercy upon my request?”

“Mercy cannot be had anymore,” He looked to his desk, the mess of papers atop it.

“And if they say the words you expect of them, what then?”

“Then we should interview the queen.” He shrugged and avoided your gaze.

“And should she be found to be conspiring, you would...well, what should be here fate?”

“Exile, death?” He looked up at you. “If she commits treason, she should earn whatever fate she receives. A fate that would leave us to be together.”

“And I should claim her spot knowing that is what befell her?”

“You should claim her spot loyally and with grace,” His voice deepened as he pushed himself straight. “You should heed my orders and listen to me for I am your king.”

“I have obeyed you. I have bided you, I have been patient, I--”

“You are still but an earl’s daughter,” He spat and you flinched.

“Your highness,” Lord Barnes intoned gently. You’d forgotten of his presence as he stepped forward. “You must understand her fear. She does not speak maliciously.”

“She speaks too much. I’ve seen her comfortable, I’ve her well, aliv, even,” The king ranted. “And with our union almost in sight, she would persist.”

“She would protect herself. She is young, how is she to understand all this? How is she to fathom that a queen she knew once to be kind and hospitable has turned cruel and maniacal?”

“She needn’t understand any of that, she only need love me as I do her,” Steven hissed. “For she is the only wife I would have.”

“Your highness,” You said quietly, “I did not mean… Lord Barnes is right.” You slowly rounded the desk. Cautious as you feared he would lash out in his anger. His face red with his temper. “I did not mean to rile you, I only meant to understand this all. Your highness…” 

You touched his chest and felt your heart hammering. You looked at Barnes from the corner of your eye and he nodded subtly.

“If all this would go wrong, it would all be over.” You soothed as you rubbed the silk of his overcoat. “And that does worry me.”

He searched your face and slowly placed his hand atop yours. He unclenched his jaw and exhaled. “I have told you I shall see you safe, see us together. I meant it. You do not need to worry, my love.”

“I know,” You said softly. “‘But may I ask of you one thing?”

“You shall ask of me anything,” He breathed.

“If it should be that Eleanor does conspire, would you have mercy upon her? For me?”

“It would be not upon my mercy that she is judged,” The king said firmly. “There is a party of cardinals traveling now from the See. They will hold the trial, they will lay their judgement, and issue their own sentence. It is… beyond my control.”

“So… you assume there should be evidence enough for a trial?” You questioned.

“There would be,” He confirmed. “But I did not call the cardinals upon the expectation of a murder trial, merely that of an annulment.”

“Murder?” You frowned.

“The death of a servant is nothing, but intent to kill a king, that is treason,” He said softly. “Even a queen cannot commit such a crime.”

You lowered your head. Stunned. Your lip trembled as your heart stuttered. For it came upon you at that very moment that you could not delay the king forever. That all that he had done could not be reversed. And foremost, it occur red to you, that another should die to break this stalemate.

“My lady, we should rejoice,” The king brought two fingers up under your chin to raise your head. “For one day, I shall call you my wife, I am certain of it now.”

👑

That night, you sat before the hearth and thought. You had supped alone as the king tended to his business. The thought made you shiver; of all that he was orchestrating, of the role you’d played in it. For all your willful ignorance, you were just as guilty as him. _Was all this worth something as low as your reputation?_

There was a rap at the door as you stared at the burning long. The crust of orange embers along it, the pale smoke that billowed up into the chimney. You waved a hand at Marge as another knock sounded and you rubbed your forehead. Your obstinacy had led to this; your insistence on being above the role of mistress. The want to follow your own will when that had never been a lady’s place.

The creak of the door and Marge’s gasp irked you. You looked to the door as your servant bowed and recited a mousy “your highness.” You stood at once and made to bow.

“Don’t you bother with that,” The queen swept in, her burgundy skirts curled around her legs as she came to a stop before you. “I came to talk not to have you simper to my face.”

“I never simpered,” You protested. “I was only ever honest to you.”

“Yes, the morally unstained lady,” She scowled. “You know what he’s done?”

“I do.” You said evenly.

“And you did not try to stop him? Did I betray you so entirely you would see me thus?” 

“Stop him? How should I do that when you never could?” You backed away from her and wrapped your arms around yourself. “I was hurt that you used me but I was never vengeful. If I had a hand in any of this, it was not intentional.”

“Why did you not relent to him?” She asked. 

“Why did you banish me? Why did you rig my saddle?” You turned on her. “Why did you hate me for the very affair you instigated?”

“The saddle… was a mistake. I only meant to scare you away. Truly. I did not intend for you to be maimed. or worse, killed. But I did not think in my anger.” Her green eyes were like glass. “I banished you because I was humiliated. I could bear Rose and those other mistresses in my husband’s bed, but I could not bear you taking the place that even I could never reach.”

“I never meant for it and it is too late for me too. In my fear, I reassured him. In my naivety, I gave his desires credence. I am guilty, yes, of enabling him, but it does not mean I condone him,” You shook your head as your eyes stung. “And so we are both backed into a corner and we must play our parts. We must move each square within the rules and hope that neither is victorious, but that we can achieve a draw.”

“You know that will not happen,” She said grimly. “But will you not go to him? Ask him to spare me. My life, at least?”

“I did.” You said plainly. “I tried and he has reminded me of how powerless I truly am. We all are. For if he should do this to a princess born to be queen, what shall he do to me one day?”

“You…”

“I begged him and he would’ve turned on me too if I had not retreated,” You picked at your sleeve as you spoke. “His mind is set, and so too are our fates.”

“You would let him exile me?” She gasped. “Kill me, even?”

“It isn’t my choice,” You withheld the tears as your voice threatened to crack. “You know that.”

She tore her eyes away and looked down at the carpet. She sniffed and nodded as she raised her head. “I know it.” She said. “I only came here because… they’ve all left me. I have no one else.” She turned and her velvet skirts grazed the floor around her feet. “And because I want you to know, while I did tamper with your horse, I did not send you that poison.” 

She stopped at the door and glanced back at you. Her eyes were glossy but determined. “I never wanted you dead, I only wanted my pride.”

“I’m sorry.” You said quietly.

“No, I am,” She inhaled and let her breath out heavily. “Goodbye. I do think this will be the last time we should speak, my lady.”

“I hope it is not, your highness.” You returned.

“Cling to that hope for as long as you can,” She bit down and swallowed back her grief. Marge stood at the ready with her hand upon the door handle. “For he will take that from you, too.”

👑 

Three days after the ladies were arrested, you broke fast with your father. He was elated. The ladies were under guard in the Fort and the gaolers were about their work. The king was optimistic and so was the council. The cardinals were due in a week with good weather. Two, if poor.

You couldn’t find it in yourself to be hungry. Not your usual fear of poison but for the thought of the women in their cells. Of what they’re revelations may bring upon the queen; upon yourself; upon the entire kingdom. You pushed your food around your plate and bounced your foot nervously beneath your skirts. 

Months ago, your father would’ve found any excuse to elude your presence, but now he was all too eager to be near you. You realized, as you watched his fork poke into a bit of yolk, that he only sat upon council by your fortune. That if it were not for the king’s favour for his daughter, he’d still be a lowly in earl in a single chamber.

“Has mother sent word of when she would return to court?” You asked.

“I’ve told you daughter, we must wait for the winter to pass. She is not fit to travel in the cold.” He could not hide his exasperation. “She will come as soon as the roads are clear of ice but she is better for the time with your sister and her grandchild.”

You frowned. You thought to ask if Alice should return as well but that was likely upon Edward’s will. You set your fork aside and wiped your hands with your napkin.

“Perhaps the king would permit me a visit if I were to ask him again.” You ventured. “I feel so very alone, here.”

“You cannot leave.” He scoffed. “You will soon be betrothed to the king. And upon your marriage, well, queen.” He smiled greedily. “A queen cannot hide away with her sister in some country castle.”

“Queen?” You felt ill at the thought. “Oh, father, I should just be away with my virtue and accept any marriage the king would give me.”

“Oh, don’t be foolish!” He snapped. “You’ve not played this game so long to let the crown slip away.”

“It’s not a game to me. It’s my life,” You retorted. “I never wanted to be queen, I never wanted you to be councilor upon my shoulders. And yet that is the only thing I’ve ever done that has garnered your approval; an ounce of care beyond and yet it only goes so deep as to what benefit I can achieve for you, father.”

“You’ve dragged the king this far, you will see it through.” He snarled. “And when you do, our family will be among the highest nobility. We will sit at the king’s table, we will be known across each province.”

“If the day ever comes that I sit the throne, you will not sit at my table.” You sneered. “You can sit in your charlatan’s chair on the council and be happy with that.”

“You are as foolish as you were the day you were born.” He shook his head and slammed his fist on the table. “You don’t even know how close you are.”

“The queen remains. To speak of myself in her place is as good as treason.” You stood and dropped your napkin beside your plate. “Do not count your chickens, father.”

“Oh, but they are hatching,” He said before you could turn away. “The king signed the warrant this morning.” Slowly his face darkened as his mouth curved. You had never seen a beast so hideous. “Eleanor will join her ladies in the Fort.”


	16. Chapter 16

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This Chapter: The trial begins.
> 
> Warnings: eventual dark elements (tags to be added as fic continues)
> 
> This is dark!(king)Steve and explicit. 18+ only.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, it’s ya girl, the disaster. I managed to get this done and so we’re still going hot. We’ll see how close we get to christmas before I just pass out from being insane. 💋 😉 Anyways, with each chapter we’ll get closer to the big hubba hubba but for now, control yourselves ho.
> 
> <3 Let me know what you think with a comment! Love ya! (I sneak and read the comments at work so I can write after and on my break lol)

Eleanor was imprisoned for a month before the cardinals arrived. The trial was further delayed by the king of Asgard; Thor was Eleanor's brother and in his stead he sent their other brother. Thus, the trial was delayed by the arrival of Prince Loki. 

While the king openly welcomed a standard of the queen's homeland, he seethed behind closed doors. His temper was easily pricked as his impatience wound tight. He only realised after Eleanor's arrest that the matter was far from resolved. You found yourself soothing him with gentle words and dulcet tones. Until you could not.

He was taxed further as the presence of the cardinals kept him from you. His council advised that it would be unseemly to keep company with another lady as his wife, or alleged wife, sat accused. Steven agreed reluctantly but it did not prevent his love letters or gifts from finding their way into your chambers.

The castle was as restless as its king. The ladies had no queen to attend and the lords were completely enthralled by the royal conflict. None could escape it. Though you tried to distract yourself with your needle or a book from your shelf, you could not concentrate long enough to forget. Long enough that you didn’t think of your part in this catastrophe.

Having paced the expanse of your chamber several times, Marge suggested you take to the corridors instead. While the walls were less suffocating, you still found the wraiths of the castle followed you around. The queen’s rooms were empty and so you avoided that wing; the feast hall was vacant and void of gaiety. The walls were drab with as the last of the winter sun shone in through the tall windows. You wondered if spring would ever come.

You found the cushioned bench by the window and sat. The guard stood at your back. You’d grown used to the sentinels; the subtle clink of mail and their iron grips upon their pommels. The trees dripped outside and the ground shone with melting snow and shrinking ice. The roads would be passable enough to permit your mother; the prospect of her return was your only comfort.

A loud grind overtook the stillness of the dreary March day. You looked to the walls, the gate just within view of your perch. The chains loudly wrapped around the gears as the links were wound to open the doors. You stood and leaned against the glass as you peered around at the entrance. 

A dark carriage jostled through, drawn by two great stallions and followed by a dozen more mounted by armoured men. A golden flag flew from the top of the carriage and the men held matching banners. You blinked and looked to Marge; the Asgardians had finally arrived.

Your heart raced as you turned your back to the window. Perhaps if you willed him away, the prince would go. A glimmer within hoped he could save his sister as you replayed your last meeting with her over in your head. Though you questioned her veracity, she seemed honest; too desperate to be deceptive. And as you thought of it more, you realized she had been as close to begging as she’d ever come. As she ever could as a woman of royal blood. 

But you didn’t wish too hard. 

Some days, you dreamt of an escape, other days, you were complacent. One minute, you felt as if you’d brought it all down upon yourself and the next you felt entirely helpless. You knew the king’s hand moved the pieces and yet you thought to move upon your own squares. In the end, there was his will and nothing else. As you could not deny the prince’s arrival, you could not deny that.

You sighed and looked to Marge. You nodded down the corridor. You’d return to your chamber and hide. You tried being brave, cowardice would do you better. You could not stand the knot that tied around your heart as you thought of how futile your efforts had been. Your want to elude the king, to appease the queen, to live a peaceful life. It had all been for not as the queen would meet with a cruel fate, and you would too. As you all would by the hand of the king.

👑 

You were to attend the queen’s trial. As your father sat on the council, you were allotted a seat in the gallery. The council itself would be among the first row, the cardinals in their box, and the two kings and singular prince within their own. It was to be a spectacle; the downfall of a queen, though it would be argued she never truly was.

You awaited your entrance with the other ladies. Marion and Beatrice were the only other unwed ladies warranted to sit in the audience upon their own kinship to council members. There were several married ladies who would share your bench. They were somber but not quiet. They whispered; both anxious and eager for the outcome.

The councilmen had passed through the doors not long before. You watched the men shuffle in with leather bound ledgers and pens in hand. Your stomach twisted and you pondered a retreat to your chambers. You weren’t needed here; your father merely requested your presence to remind the court of his standing. To remind him that one day, his daughter might just be queen.

The doors opened again but only a single lord appeared. His blue eyes caught yours and he smiled as he approached you. Lord Barnes’ hair was bound low behind his head and he wore a plain navy overcoat without ornament. He bowed as he stopped before you and the other ladies glanced over curiously. You returned the courtesy.

“My lady,” He stood. “I did not expect you.”

“Neither did I, my lord,” You returned. “But my father did think it pertinent I attend and his majesty did agree.”

“Oh, he would,” He smirked and shook his head, “Though you do look as if you do not.”

“Why should I be here?” You glanced at the others and stepped away from them. Barnes followed and leaned in slightly to listen as you spoke. “You think I do not realize what they think? They did not expect me either and that I do show my face assures them of their suspicions.”

“This trial has yet to begin,” He said coolly. “As it may prove the queen innocent or otherwise, it will surely do the same for you.”

“And what should happen if the court rules against the queen? What should her brother do?”

“Prince Loki? He rules a small duchy no one’s ever heard of.” He scoffed. “I swear, the man’s only come out of boredom.”

“Not that brother, the one who sent him,” You frowned. “It astounds me he should let his sister be humiliated this far.”

“Should his apathy surprise you?” Barnes breathed derisively. “For the last two years, he has not lifted a pen to paper to write to her, though she would do so often. He has distanced himself from her since the death of their father; since she did disregard his commands that she return for the funeral. And then shortly thereafter, the same upon their mother’s death.”

“And he should forsake her on that?”

“He does not forsake her, but has sent a letter which does concede to the will of the cardinals in this matter.” He explained. “The queen has proven herself adverse to kings, though in some ways, I cannot blame her.”

“And you think this letter will keep the king from war in his sister’s name?” You challenged.

“I think the marriage between Steven and Eleanor did compromise a hard-fought alliance between Wakanda and Asgard. I think the sons of the hateful old kings should seek to do better. I think Eleanor has sown discord between all three nations in her behaviour and has wrought resent from all three crowns.” He spoke quietly so that his voice did not rise above the chatter of the ladies. “I do think, despite her best efforts, she has signed the warrant herself.”

“Is that what you think, or what _he_ thinks?” You looked him in the eye. He smirked.

“May I offer you some advice, lady?” He tilted his head coyly.

“You may though I may not accept it.” You replied.

“Take this as an opportunity to learn what you should not do.” His face turned stern. “Learn from Eleanor and all her mistakes. Do not let yourself fall into the same trap one day.”

Your eyes rounded as you stared at him. Your breath caught. His eyes clung to you; intent and unyielding.

“And you think I should fall into that same trap?” You asked.

“I should hate to see it, is all,” He said. “The king’s crown has weighed heavy on him for many years and it does affect his posture; his very spirit.”

You nodded and lowered your eyes. You tried to gather your thoughts; to reign in the fears which had overcome you for so long. Those which you found harder and harder to outrun.

“Did you know?”

“Did I know what?” He squinted.

“That he did offer to marry us?” You wondered.

“He offers a lot,” He chuckled. “And I did know. I think, perhaps, it might have saved us all trouble. Well, everyone but me.”

“And you know what he would’ve expected?”

“I did.” He didn’t flinch.

You shook your head at him. Never without his wit. “Then perhaps it might have been worth it.” You said. “If it did keep us from all this.”

He considered you a moment and pushed his shoulders back. “Let’s not linger on the past and what will never be.” He chided. “I did emerge for some reason though how easily I am distracted.” He bowed his head stiffly. “My lady, I must be upon my way. They do await my return.”

👑 

The chambers did not quiet for a while. The audience chattered as the the five cardinals sat in their box. The sun shone in through the round stained-glass window and beamed a kaleidoscope onto the floor between the jury and the bench. You sat among the ladies and waited quietly. To you, it was a deathly lull.

When at last, the doors groaned again and were pulled open, the three royals entered as the crowd fell into silence. King Steve wore a plain grey overcoat with a single medal around his neck; the most modest you’d seen him. King T’Challa wore his tradition black and gold attire, with a sash across his overcoat as Prince Loki sported a dark green coat with snakes sewn upon the chest. They approached their box and sat to face the audience, the cardinals to their left.

The air was so still you thought you would faint. You gulped and swore all could hear the constricting of your throat. You looked along the line of cardinals in holy white and it felt as if you were to be judged. You tore your eyes away only to meet those of another. 

King Steve’s lips twitched as his gaze lingered on you before moving on. He hadn’t visited you in over a month. It wasn’t his disinterest that kept him though, only his ultimate goal. A goal which, you realized, was closer than ever. You lowered your head and waited. _Waited. Waited._ You were tired of waiting even for something you never wanted.

There was a swish of fabric and you raised your eyes, though you kept your chin down. The cardinal who sat at the centre of the party stood, his hair as white as his robes. His knobby knuckles clutched together before his rounding stomach and he inhaled deeply before his gravelly voice rose.

“On behalf of the See, in the name of our lord, and upon the sovereignty of these three kingdoms, we do call the accused, Eleanor of Asgard.” The elder’s dull eyes floated over the crowd. “Please, stand for the accused to hear her charges.”

All rose, cardinals, kings, lords, and ladies, and all seem to hold their breaths. You slowly lifted your head as you heard the small door to the right of the kings’ box open. The familiar metallic sound of mail and iron trickled in and the queen appeared with a guard at her side and two at her rear. 

She was pale and her gown hung from her slender shoulders. She stood stoic in white; the colour of the church; of sacredness; of forgiveness. She held her head high as she walked forward to stand at the podium between the kings and cardinals. Though she still held herself as the queen she was, there was frailty to her you’d never seen before.

“Eleanor of Asgard, you stand here, by the power of these kings; Steven and T’Challa, and by that of King Thor, your brother, represented by his ambassador, Prince Loki,” The cardinal’s voice grew more laboured with each word as he recited them. “To stand trial in the eyes of the Holy See and our lord, for the charges of adultery and treason.”

The queen didn’t wince. Though you could not see her face, her shoulders did not slump and her figure did not waver. She looked straight ahead and listened. You’d never seen anyone so graceful; so brave. You could never be that.

“Adultery in that you did falsely accept a betrothal whilst already bound by another and lay with a man not legally your husband. That you did attempt to unjustly break a contract previously formed upon the creation of a new and unsanctified one. And treason upon the offense that you did attempt to kill King Steven, your false husband who you did deceive, by way of poison.”

You found it hard to stand. Your legs were weak and you felt as if you would shrivel up. You looked to Steven as he tried to withhold a smile. He was proud; smug; content even. To watch this woman who he had known for more than ten years face what could be her death. You wondered if one day he should look at you in the same manner in the same circumstance.

“How do you plea?” The cardinal asked.

Your attention strayed to the dark-haired prince. He was stark contrast to his sister, though their eyes were the same emeralds beads. His face was placid as he watched his sister; bored even. He gave a slight nod before she spoke.

“Not guilty,” She declared. Prince’s Loki’s face drained of colour.

The cardinal paused as the clerk scribbled upon parchment. He bowed his white head and and spread his arms. “We have read the charges, we recognize the accused’s plea, and we shall commence this trial forthwith.”

The cardinal sat and you let your breath out. Eleanor still didn’t move. She didn’t even turn to watch as Lord Ellis stood and approached the podium across from hers. He placed his papers before him, another podium stood six feet from the queen; empty. 

“We will call the first witness,” Ellis began. “King T’Challa of Wakanda, we do call upon you to testify.”

“And I do accept,” T’Challa stood and stepped down from the box. 

He crossed the chamber and as he passed the queen, she finally flinched. Her hand reached to the rail around her and she stood so that her neck looked even longer. The king stepped up to the other podium.

“We do question you, your highness, upon the expectation that you do tell the truth, entirely and without censor before these cardinals and before our lord in this court of the See.”

“I swear to the See, to answer your question truthfully and without hesitation,” T’Challa responded.

“Your highness, you were betrothed to Eleanor of Asgard?” Ellis asked.

“I was.” T’Challa confirmed. “When I was fifteen, her father signed the contract with mine and I was sent to live in Asgard until we were to be wed.”

“And when did this contract end?”

“End?” T’Challa echoed. “It did not for we did not wed and it was never formally dissolved. I remained in Asgard for five years and did return to Wakanda upon my father’s request. I was to prepare for my succession and my marriage.”

“You did not see your departure as the end of your contract?”

“The contract stood. Before I left, Eleanor did speak to me of how she longed to be my wife. And upon this contract and the recognition that it did not end, for her marriage to King Steven was fallacious and illegal, I did not marry for this past decade or more. I could not for I was still bound to her.”

“You left for war against my people,” Eleanor growled.

“My lady, it is not your turn to speak,” Lord Ellis corrected her. The lack of her title startled the court and sent up a wave of whispers. 

“I am a queen, I shall speak when I wish--”

“Do restrain yourself,” The cardinal at the end of the line intoned. “This is a court of law, not one of your ladies’ circles.”

Eleanor looked to the cardinals but said nothing further. She stared forward again as Ellis cleared his throat. “Do continue, your highness.”

“I have brought with me several petitions I did submit; two to a See within my own country and another to the Holy See itself. I did request that my marriage contract be reviewed and annulled so that I may find a wife and queen to lead my people. The first two were referred to the higher court, and the third has not yet been heard and so I do hope that this will be my absolution. My freedom.”

You nearly jumped as you felt a hand on yours. You looked over at Marion as she placed her hand over yours. She held your eyes and her face reflected her fear. This foretold not only the precariousness of the queen herself, but of every woman at court. You turned back to the queen, lit in the rainbow cast through the stained-glass. A red streak bled around her shoulders.

“That this matter was never truly settled has been an oversight most grave,” T’Challa continued. “I ask today that it be resolved for my own sake and that of this other king whom I believe Eleanor deceived knowingly. Of two marriages that can never be such, for she did violate those contracts.”

Ellis nodded as he shuffled through his paper. He thought, or pretended to, and looked back to the king.

“What makes you so convinced of the authenticity of this original contract?” Ellis prodded.

“Because, though it shames me to admit it, I did lay with Eleanor.” T’Challa lowered his head shamefully. “And when I did, she called herself my wife and I her husband. And in the ancient right of not only my country, but of this and many under the reach of the See, this is as true as any contract.”

At once, the whispers rose to full blown gasps and titters. The cardinals looked to each other annoyed and the eldest raised his hand. The court quieted slowly and looked to the holy men as they scowled. Eleanor roiled silently as she refused to acknowledge the king at his podium.

“And can you offer proof for this claim, your highness?” Ellis asked.

“Only my word,” T’Challa said staunchly. “Though it may be that others can testify to her unchasteness.”

“Thank you, your highness,” Ellis smiled and flipped once more through your papers. “If you have nothing else, you may step down.”

“Lies, lies, lies,” The chant slowly grew louder and the queen gripped the rails of her podium. “They tell you lies!”

“Do restrain yourself,” A dark-haired cardinal snapped. “You will have your turn to speak. You may save your vitriol until then.”

You squeezed Marion’s hand as the queen pushed herself straight and kept her eyes averted as the Wakandan king climbed down from the stand. You shuddered as you looked around, heads turned in disbelief. A pair of eyes caught your own. Lord Barnes held your gaze for a moment before he righted himself. His words swirled among the whispers that rose around you. 

_‘Do not let yourself fall into the same trap one day.’_


	17. Chapter 17

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This Chapter: The trial continues.
> 
> Warnings: eventual dark elements (tags to be added as fic continues)
> 
> This is dark!(king)Steve and explicit. 18+ only.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What’s up all my thot-lovers and barnacles bitches. 💋 😉 We’re still watching some shit unfold here and this trial is gonna get unreallll. But I’m excited to keep going and to have something to feed you thirsty thirsty ho. Just a little longer... erm, I don’t know exactly how long tho.
> 
> <3 Let me know what you think with a comment Love ya!
> 
> I'm so excited to continue on with this!

In the days following King T'Challa's testimony, several witnesses were placed on the stand. Though their authenticity was questionable, they were heard with the same silent awe as the first to speak.

Prince Loki had brought a physician from Asgard who had served the royal family since his father, Odin's, reign. He swore to have examined Eleanor before she was sent away to the marry Steven and had found her virtue broken, though the document presented did attribute this to unknown but surely innocent circumstances. _What else could he have written when the king's signature would seal the declaration?_

Next, a chamber maid who served Eleanor when she was a princess still. The woman had no papers or letters to present and if she did, she'd not have known their contents. 

She stated that Eleanor doted upon her betrothed and spoke of her future as queen with girlish cheer. That she did blush when the prince's name arose. That the princess did divulge that she had "surrendered her heart and body" to him and that she did speak of them as husband and wife already.

Ellis presented several more documents provided by Asgard and its royal prince. A copy of the original betrothal, several letters which upheld its validity over the years between Odin and T'Chaka. 

And the most damning, a letter in Eleanor's hand addressed to her mother written after her departure to marry Steven. In it, she spoke of her lingering feelings for the other prince and her hesitation to marry the second. Though she did not question the union outright, her youthful fears were presented as knowing deception.

You watched, barely able to conceal your despair. The pit deepened in your stomach as you watched the queen stand before her accusers and her judges, head held high despite all she faced. You knew you could never be her; you could never face anything so terrible as such and indomitable force. She hadn’t slipped since her first day on trial. Her shoulders remained still, her figure straight, head held high.

And when the issue of Eleanor’s marital fealty was thoroughly dissected, the court turned its attention to the accusations of treason. On the fifth day, Lord Ellis called forth Ladies Mabel and Diana. Mabel was first, her face drawn and sullen. She was led to the stand as Ellis asked her to tell the truth and nothing more. Marion bent her head as she began to pray quietly beside you.

“Lady Mabel,” Ellis began as he looked up from the podium. “How long did you serve Eleanor of Asgard?”

“Near five years now, my lord,” Mabel answered in a small voice. 

“Mmm,” He looked down and his eyes roved over his notes. “And it was her who did request that the king arrange your marriage to Lord Wilson?”

“It was.” She replied as she brought her hands together before her. “The queen always did see her ladies married well.”

“So you would say she was generous? She has sewn no ill-will between you?”

“I would say that,” Her voice quavered and she looked behind her to the audience. She stared at her husband as a hush took over the court. “She was ever kind to me and all the ladies.”

“All her ladies?” Ellis nodded and flicked the corner of a page with his thumb. “Every single one?”

“Well…” Mabel’s voice trailed off.

“To return to my previous point, as she was so courteous, you would have no reason to speak unkindly of her would you, to lie about her for any reason?”

“No, I w-would not,” She looked to the queen and gulped. Eleanor stared at the dimming window. “I wouldn’t lie, my lord.”

“And so when you say she was kind to all her ladies, would you include in that one Lady Y/N?” You fidgeted at the mention of your name. You hid your face as you listened.

“I only ever saw the queen treat her well.” Mabel said.

“Even as she did meddle with the lady’s saddle on a hunt this past autumn?” Ellis suggested.

Mabel was silent. She gripped the podium before her and hung her head. She did not respond.

“Lady Mabel?” Ellis urged and Mabel shook her head. “Were you aware that Eleanor of Asgard did arrange for this lady to have a wild horse and an altered saddle that day?”

Mabel sniffed and didn’t move. The court waited as her shoulders began to shake. She nodded at last. You could hear her weeping.

“Lady Mabel, you must answer aloud so that the clerk may record your response.” Ellis chided.

“Yes…” She spoke softly at first and lifted her head. She gulped harshly and cleared her throat as she wiped away her tears. “Yes, I did know.”

“And how was it that you knew of the queen’s ploy?”

“She told me of it.” Her voice threatened to crack as she wrung her hands.

“When did she tell you of it?”

“After...after the incident.”

“What incident?” 

“The one in which the lady was thrown from her horse,” The tears bubbled again and Mabel hiccuped. “She didn’t mean her any harm. She didn’t. She only meant to frighten her.”

“And did you ever know Eleanor of Asgard to have any ill intent for anyone else?” Ellis asked.

“I…” Mabel couldn’t answer as she sobbed.

“Did she ever wish harm upon her husband, perhaps?”

Another sob. “I… Only…”

“You may tell the court. You will not be punished for your honesty.” Ellis coaxed. “Did she ever devise any other schemes? Against her own husband?”

Mabel was quaking. She could barely form words as her body rattled. “She… she… she did… send… poison to the king….” She spoke so quietly and yet you heard her clearly, as did the entire audience. 

“And how do you know it was her?” Ellis led her as he leaned on his podium eagerly.

“She… told… me.” Mabel swayed as she clutched her hands together. The queen pushed her shoulders back.

“And why should she tell you that?” Ellis wondered.

“Because she told me everything. Because…” She gasped. “Because… she was…my friend.”

“And did she tell you of why it was she would do such a thing? Of why she would conspire to kill her own husband?”

“Sh-she hated him,” Mabel stuttered. “She said so very often and when he came to her as a husband did, she did deny him because… she could not stand to lay--to lay next to him.” Her voice squeaked and she shuddered as she covered her tear-stained cheeks. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry…”

She kept her face buried as she repeated the words over and over. She shook so much you were sure she would collapse. The court was deathly and still. Shadows fell over the figures at the centre of the scene as the sun began its descent.

“Please, take the lady away. She is much overwhelmed,” Ellis feigned concern as he touched his chest. “I think that is quite enough, Lady Mabel.”

You looked to the box where the king sat. Steven’s eyes were bright as he watched a guard escort Mabel from the stand. He leaned over to T’Challa who turned to whisper in his ear. Prince Loki did not betray his thoughts as he looked down his long nose. You were startled however to find that he looked upon you. His cheeks twitched as if he would smirk before he drew his attention away.

“If the cardinals and your highnesses should allow it, I should think a brief recess would be in order.” Ellis intoned. “And we shall have our final witness of the day thereafter.”

“I should think it a wise idea,” The cardinal who seemed the leader of the party agreed as he rubbed his large stomach. “A day such as this has been most taxing.”

The royals nodded in approval and Ellis announced the recess. No one moved until the queen was led from her podium and out the side door. You watched her go, her steps as long and certain as any day she had sat the throne. 

You looked away as the door closed behind her. King Steven was the first to rise and the entire chamber was upon their feet within second. He searched between the bodies until his gaze fell upon you and he gave a slight nod. You did not look away; could not for you feared what should happen if you were to offend him. If you were to fall from his favour.

Surely, if these were the consequences for a queen, you could not meet any better.

👑

You were due for another day on the bench. You were tired and did not relish any further testimony. You found it hard not to think of Mabel and her distraught confessions. And Diana who followed with a similar display. Both had implicated their queen and friend, though both those titles would seem to have been relinquished.

You walked with your father. He had come to you early that morning to deliver a letter from the king. You had been want to set it aside and continue to the court if only to have it done with. He did not allow your delay and reproached you until you opened it. He read it after you did and grinned at the king’s still infatuated words. You smiled if only to conceal your distress.

As you swept through the halls beside him, you were quiet. You let him rant until he was silent and clung to the lull of his words. You did not dare fuel his lectures of your future; more importantly, of his. There would be much talking that day, as there was every day.

You turned the corner and came upon another pair in the hall. You nearly faltered as you recognized the dark-haired prince of Asgard and his burly guard just behind him. He stood with his eyes upon a large hanging. As you came upon him, you curtsied and your father bowed. Prince Loki did not look away from the map painted on elk skin.

“Lord Willis,” He said without a glance. “My lady. I assume you are upon the same path as me.”

“We are, your grace,” Your father answered and you tried not to squirm at his weaselly tone. 

“Oh, but they do always find reason to delay, so why hurry?” He mused. “Do you see these mountains?” He pointed to the skin.

“I do, your grace,” Your father turned to look alongside the prince. You peeked over his shoulder but did not near the Asgardian.

“Do you know of their history?” He asked. “Of who does claim them?”

“Why, your grace, I do see that they bear the crest of King Steven and his ancestors on this map.” Your father answered diligently.

“Upon this map, yes,” The prince smirked and you squinted at the pointed range upon the skin. “But not every map.”

“Your grace, is that not The Beak?” You ventured. “The mountains that house your ancestral temples? Those carved by the unblessed?”

He slowly turned his head, at last looking away from the map. He grinned as he stepped back and approached you. “The lady is right. Well-educated, I assume. And do you know then the answer to my first question?”

“The mountains are claimed by many; our people, yours, and those of Wakanda.” You replied. “Though for how many times they have changed hands, it cannot be said to who they belong.”

He nodded and lifted a brow. “Clever lady, indeed. You do prove the rumours true. At least those ones.”

“Rumours?” You repeated.

“I do know of you, my lady,” He affirmed. “And your alleged part in my purpose here.”

“And you would believe the whispers of a court you are unfamiliar with?” You blinked and pressed your lips together before you righted yourself. “Your grace.”

“I do not, but I know there is truth beneath each lie, merely contorted and exaggerated for effect,” He swept a strand of his dark hair back. “And the same can be said of the truth. That it can be bent to fit our needs.”

“Perhaps,” You said evenly as your father returned to your side.

“The line between truth and falsity is thin and not so firm as we should like it,” Loki reflected. “As many lines which constrain us prove to be.” He lifted his chin and looked down at you. “Shall we walk together then? Since we do seek the same destination?”

“As you wish, your grace,” Your father answered keenly but the prince didn’t so much as look at him. You bowed your head in ascent and Loki turned to walk beside you.

“Your grace, are you enjoying your visit?” Your father cajoled.

“As much as I can, given its purpose,” The prince said dully. 

You walked silently between them as they continued their courtly dialogue. The forced amiability of politicians. You did not miss the prince’s green eyes as they peeked at you. You ignored him and carried on. He must have loathed you for your role in his sister’s current circumstance, though he seemed happy enough to sit and watch it unfold.

“Well, my lord, it seems I must be away,” The prince turned as you came upon the doors to the courtroom. “I have lingered far too long. My lady,” He smiled again as he looked to you. “It was… an intriguing meeting. As brief as it was.” He stood straight and resumed his usual cool stature, “Take care.”

You watched him go and took a deep breath as he disappeared through the door. Your father squinted at you as you crossed your arms. He kept away from the other lords and ladies who waited without.

“You do not like the prince?” He asked.

“I haven’t reason not to,” You said. “I find him… cordial enough.”

“But you do seem perturbed by him.” Your father insisted.

“I do find it hard not to wonder how he can be so jaunty as he watches his sister face such an unfortunate ordeal.” You countered. “How he can let his sister stay silent as she is faced with such accusations..”

“His sister did refuse his aid,” Your father lowered his voice and beckoned you away from the crowd. “The Prince and his kingly brother did come with an offer. If she would admit to her crimes, she would be met with exile. Upon their bearing and that of her name, she would walk away to isolation and a slight taint.”

You frowned and stared dumbly at your father.

“But she does insist upon her innocence and if she cannot prove it, then she will face whatever fate the See decides upon.” You father shrugged. “So is the lot of a woman who cannot mind her place.”

“Is it?” You growled.

“It is,” He smirked at you sourly. “On women who would try to outpace a king; who would toy with him and deny his will.” You bristled as he stepped closer. “Remember this, daughter. Remember that if you should fall, we will all fall with you.”

“But you could’ve never risen without me,” You rebutted.

“And _we_ will not remain unless you appease him,” Your father hissed. “So keep him happy and we’ll all be content.” His nostrils flared as he scowled. “And we might just keep our heads long enough to revel in it.”

Your father drew away suddenly and looked over your head. He smiled and you turned to follow his gaze. Lord Ellis and several other council members approached. You stepped back as you were quickly forgotten.

“My lords,” Your father greeted. “I see you are well this day.”

You backed away and shook your head at your father’s act. He was truly repulsive. You joined the other ladies who waited along the wall and clasped your hands together. Even if he was entirely false, your father had played the game well. He knew the court and its deceits better than any. And he was right. 

The only way to save yourself was to keep King Steven happy.


	18. Chapter 18

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This Chapter: The reader struggles.
> 
> Warnings: eventual dark elements (tags to be added as fic continues)
> 
> This is dark!(king)Steve and explicit. 18+ only.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Bienvenue power bottoms. So hopefully I can post another chapter on xmas eve then have my day off from everything while I slave over a turkey dinner :) I work straight through the week with the exception of xmas itself and I’m hoping y’all are enjoying it. Also sorry about tags. I can’t really keep up bc I have no other time and these are usually queued to go up when I work and I don’t tag in original posts because they don’t work.
> 
> <3 Let me know what you think with a comment! Love ya! Also love all your theories and thoughts. So much fun!

The trial stretched beyond a fortnight. The council called a dozen more witnesses to the stand as they examined both the queen’s behaviour and her alleged role in the poisoning. 

Several stablehands testified to her role in your injury, another half dozen kitchen servants were called to answer for the preparation of the king’s tainted breakfast, and Eleanor’s own personal servants were questioned on her marriage. They all reaffirmed the story being laid out so perfectly against her.

With each day, you found yourself more on edge. As you listened to the witnesses, as you thought of the last night you’d spoken to the queen, of her earnest pleas, you found yourself watching her. You prayed, against all that faced her, that she would not meet that most final and cruel fate. For if she did, you could not help but feel your hand in it.

That day was no different. Your chest felt tight and you found it hard to breathe as you entered the courtroom. You were exhausted of being there. The room must have been as grim as the cell they kept Eleanor in. The light that glowed through the stained glass was blinding and near torturous. The seat was hard and unforgiving beneath your skirts. The air was suffocating. You didn’t know how much longer you could stand it.

The room went silent as the cardinal stood and announced the commencement of proceedings. Ellis stood and lingered by the bench for a moment. He bent to hear whatever slithering words your father whispered in his ear. Your shoulders slumped as they called for Eleanor and the door opened; the usual whine of hinges that mourned her each day.

She stood at the podium and her blonde hair shone in the morning light. She wore another white gown as she resumed her vigil. Ellis approached his own perch and unwrapped his paper from his leather folder. He took his time as if to rile the queen; as if to draw the audience to impatience.

“Your holy cardinals, your highnesses, your grace,” He addressed each figurehead with a nod. “Today we would call a most important witness to stand and hope that this case is even closer to its conclusion. We have tarried here for long and I know we do grow weary but we must not leave a stone unturned.”

All in the room seemed to squirm at Ellis’ words. All were tired of his airy words and prolonging tangents. They were eager to reach the end of it; if not to be free of the courtroom but to see how it would all come together. Though it was not difficult to surmise how it would end.

“So today, we call a witness who did find herself at the mercy of the queen’s wrath and one of only a few witnesses to the attempted murder of King Steven.” Ellis spoke flatly but his voice built; almost excited. “The court shall call upon the youngest daughter of Malford.”

Slowly, the audience turned and craned on the benches to look at you. You blinked, stunned. You were certain you’d imagined the announcement. _How could they call you without warning? How could they call you to testify on a queen who had outrightly declared herself your enemy? How could they expect you to do anything more than you already had?_

“Lady,” Marion nudged you and you looked to her dumbly. “They call on you.”

You just stared at her and shook your head. She took your elbow and stood. She pulled you to your feet as you latched onto her wrist.

“Please,” You whispered. “Please, I can’t.”

She looked at you startled. Sad, even. “You must.” She peeled your fingers from around her wrist and squeezed your hand. “I can’t go with you.”

You trembled and raised your head. You glanced around at the benches and then to the cardinals and royals. All watched you intently; with untethered expectation. You grabbed your skirts and held your breath as you walked along the row to the aisle. 

You descended to the floor where the queen stood across from Ellis and the judges loomed in their box opposite the other. You passed behind the queen as you went to the witness stand and stepped up to the podium. You let out a long exhale and released your skirts.

“My lady, do you swear to the truth entirely and without censor before these cardinals and before our lord in this court of the See?” Ellis asked.

You glanced over at the queen. Her face was set in a cool mask as she refused to acknowledge you. Your eyes floated up to the box where the king sat. He sat with his shoulders set and stared you down. You lowered your chin and cleared your throat. Finally, you found the strength to lift your head again.

“I do.” You said as firmly as you could. “Though I do not promise I can offer any truth you shall find convenient.”

“Very well, my lady, you need only be honest with the court,” Ellis replied and flipped the paper before him before turning it back. “What is your relationship with King Steven?”

You were shocked by the question. Your head pulsed as the words returned to you; _‘Do not let yourself fall into the same trap.’_ You gulped and focused on Ellis. _Don’t look at the kings or the cardinals, just stand and tell the truth._

“I did serve his wife, Queen Eleanor, for two years past,” You said. “But our relationship has been strictly as any king’s would be with any unwed lady.”

“And your relationship with Eleanor? What is, or was, that like?”

“I sat among her ladies and found her to be a most generous queen. She was ever kind to me…” You pressed your hands flat to your skirts as they began to sweat. 

“Generous? Kind? How was it then that she came to rig your saddle upon a hunt and nearly maim you as a result?” Ellis intoned. “That does not seem to fit your description of her demeanour.”

“She was those things until a point,” You admitted. “But I never did see her as entirely cruel, only… hurt.”

“Hurt? And why should she be hurt by the daughter of an earl who for two years has gone unnoticed and unaffected?” Ellis asked sharply. “Did it perhaps relate to the king’s favour for you?”

“It might have. Surely, it did for she did say it,” You said. “But I could not blame her.”

“You would not blame her? Is that because your relationship with the king was more than just a lady and king’s acquaintance should be?”

“No, no,” You shook your head. “It was never more than propriety should permit but…” You looked at the queen.

“But…?” Ellis led and you shrugged as you looked forward again. “How was it you came to favour with the king?”

“I suppose he enjoyed my company,” You answered plainly. “But I did warn him of the circumstance. I did remind him that I was a lady who did seek a proper and true marriage.”

“And so there never came to be anything untoward between you and the king?” Ellis prompted.

“If you ask if I was his mistress, I can attest the answer is no. If you ask if I did seek to distract him from his wife, the answer is no.” You stated bluntly. “I never wanted any of this. I never wanted to be stood here opposite this woman in such a circumstance. I never wanted her to guide her husband towards me or to have such attentions grow so dubious.

“If you ask if I believe the queen to be malicious, I do not. If you ask if I believe her to have attempted to intimidate me thereafter, I do, but I do not believe her to have done so with the intent of true harm.” You frowned at Ellis as he tapped his fingers on his podium. “If you ask if I think she should face such dire consequences and be cast out, I do not. I do not wish this upon any.”

There was a stir from the benches and flurry of whispers. You didn’t move. You didn’t look behind you or beside you. 

“And when you say she guided her husband towards you, what do you mean?” Ellis pondered.

“I…” You began.

“Did Eleanor intend to lead Steven to adultery?” He asked.

“I don’t… I don’t know what she intended.” You rasped.

“But you say she guided him? How do you know she did? Or is this a supposition?”

You blanched and peeked at the queen. Her brow wrinkled as her eyes bored into the stained glass.

“Did she ever tell you of such intents?” Ellis prodded.

You looked back to him and let your shoulders slump. “Yes,” You breathed. “She did suggest to me that she was unhappy with the king’s former mistress and she wished him to be more modest in his affairs.”

“His affairs? And what proof did she have of these affairs?”

“I don’t know.” You swallowed. “The court spoke of them.”

“Rumours? The same which would paint you in the same light though you uphold your virtue?”

“I… Yes, I suppose they would be rumours.”

“And so it would not be ridiculous to assume that Eleanor intended to defame Steven? That she, perhaps, sought to deflect the guilt from herself?”

“I don’t know.”

“Is it true, my lady, that Eleanor did banish you from court?” Ellis continued, unfazed.

“She did.” You affirmed.

“And why did she do this?”

“I do not know. Because she did not like the king’s attentions towards me.”

“But you did not indulge her ploy?”

“I did not. I never attended the king without a witness and I never did seek him out,” You said.

“And so she was unhappy that you did not take the role she assigned you in her attempts to disparage Steven?”

“She might have been but I cannot say with certainty.”

“So would you still call Eleanor kind and generous?”

“I… I… don’t know.” You grasped your skirts tightly. 

“My lady, you are distressed? Why?” Ellis dropped the paper in his hand.

“Because I was unaware that I should stand here today. Because I never thought to answer these questions as such.” You hung your head and exhaled. “Because I never wanted to cause anyone else so much grief.”

“But if this should be the truth, then you should not have been the cause of all this grief.” Ellis argued. “And you needn’t feel so bad for saying it. It is the truth, isn’t it?”

“I can’t lie,” You raised your head. “I could not and I fear that has been the cause of all this.”

“And do you think then, that should Eleanor’s attempt to poison Steven and yourself had been successful, it would’ve been earned because you did evade her will?”

“N-no,” You winced. “No, I only think she felt as any woman would have.”

“And would you, in a similar situation, have turned to such a final resolution?”

“No, b-but I do not… I don’t…” You blinked as your eyes burned. “I do not wish to see Eleanor harmed. I stand here and I do not wish her ill, as I do not think she wished it on me. Not in so much as this court would infer. I only think she was angry and her pride wounded. I cannot forsake her when I never believe she did the same to me.”

“So, if you do not believe it was Eleanor who poisoned you, who would have motive to do so?” Ellis continued.

You opened your mouth than closed it. “I… the king has a taster for the very purpose that poison is a danger. I suppose there would be many unseen enemies.”

“But should those enemies also wish to affect you? Who else could seek to act against both the king and yourself?”

“I… I…” You sputtered and shook your head. You looked at Eleanor, her eyes were downcast. Her veneer had softened. She looked vulnerable as a rainbow glinted off her pale skin and ivory dress. “I don’t know.”

“And you have heard the testimony of this trial? Of the servants who swore to the queen’s orders and her own hand in the act of treason? Do you think that your belief in the queen should disprove their accounts of the events?”

You peered around desperately. The cardinals watched you with vacant interest and the three figures in the kings’ box leaned forward eagerly to hear you. Steven’s eyes were crinkled with blatant intrigue. His lips threatened to curve.

“I suppose… No.” You said softly. 

“My lady, do not blame yourself. You are young and naive, but you have behaved most admirably in your circumstance. Your innocence has led you to misjudge the queen and we cannot hold that against you.” Ellis pontificated as a priest would at confession. “How can we condemn a young lady such as yourself who did hold herself to the upright standards of morality when she was surrounded by such misconduct?”

You were silent. You reached to the podium to brace yourself as you felt like to crumple.

“My lady, we thank you for your honesty this day. We commend your comportment in these matters and we do hope that we can seek for you and all those who have been affected justice and truth.” Ellis ran his fingers along the sides of his papers until they were straight. “You may step down.”

You stood stunned. You didn’t move until you sensed a figure beside you. A guard in mail beckoned you down from the stand and helped you down from the shallow platform. The audience was rapt as they watched you retreat from the stage and as you approached the benches, they all stood. As you walked along the aisle, they bowed their heads.

You walked carefully along the bench and resumed your seat beside Marion. The people sat and Marion touched the back of your hand. Your fingers were curled around the fabric of your skirts. You sat stiffly as you tried to see through the blur which rose in your vision.

“My lady,” Marion whispered, “You did well.”

👑 

That night was the most restless you had ever known. Even those days before your debut at court, you had never been so unsettled. Eleanor's face stained your mind and kept you awake. The king's too.

When at last you gave up and rose, you dressed in the dark. An old plain gown without a corset beneath. You pulled a cloak over your shoulder and slipped your feet into a pair of slippers. You hid your hair beneath the loose hood of the cloak. You lit a lamp and held it aloft.

You tiptoed to the doors and pulled one open. You were greeted by the mailed guard who stood outside as he turned to look at you. He didn't say a word, only held out his arm to block your way.

"I only wish to go for a walk," You said. "I cannot sleep."

He stared at you and squinted. You saw him weigh his thoughts. He slowly lowered his arm and nodded. 

"I will follow." He stated. "As my duty would have me."

"Very well," You allowed. "Though I don't know that my enemies lurk in the night but rather stand proudly in the light."

He did not reply. He merely waited until you stepped out and pulled shut the door behind you. You set off along the corridor and he kept a pace back. The light of the lantern formed a small halo around you. Your slippers padded on the stone as the guards boots echoed loudly behind you.

You’d never walked the corridors so late. You wondered if perhaps it was wise to. Your doubt quickly passed as your mind returned to the day’s events; your turn at the stand; the way your heart plummeted when you thought of the queen’s expression. As if she had realized something but was too afraid to truly face it.

You walked without heed to direction. You were certain you made more than one circle before straying in your reverie. You stopped before the dark corridor. Bleak and vacant. You raised your lantern as you crept along the offshoot and turned to look up at the tapestry that hung from a peg high on the wall.

The rosettes were colourful in the lamplight, even as shadows drowned in their creases. You shuddered as you felt a draft around your neck. You leaned and reached to pinch a rosette between your fingers. The very one you’d sewn that day months ago. You tugged at it until the thread snapped and it unraveled in your hand. The red silk looked like blood as it rippled over your palm.

Your guard snapped to attention and his blade whispered against its sheath. You stood straight and looked along the corridor from behind him. The footsteps came clearer and he drew his steel entirely. A shadow appeared at the mouth of the hallway. It held a glowing orb.

“Who goes there?” The guard readied his sword. The shadow approached as the light distorted its features.

“It is only me,” Lord Barnes angled his candle away from his face. He stopped short as he spotted you behind the guard. “You would allow the lady to wander at night?”

“I have been told to keep watch over her,” The guard replied plainly. “And I have done that. She is safe with me.”

“We have many visitors in the castle. Many unknown faces.” Barnes said. “Harder to recognize in the dark.”

“And should I worry of those who do lurk in the dark?” You stepped up beside the guard.

“Some,” Barnes replied. “Though not all.”

“Not all?” You countered.

“Yes, surely none should fear you.” He chided.

“I only wander, my lord, to soothe my wandering mind,” You assured him. “I do not seek out trouble.”

“You need not seek it out to find it.” He grinned and the candle caught his sapphire like eyes. “I was only upon my way from a late night meeting. The trial does extend one day into the next.”

“So it does.” You agreed and rubbed the red silk with your thumb. His eyes flicked to the subtle movement. He squinted then nodded in recognition. He leaned over to glance behind you through the black.

“We can wish away the past but we can not unravel the threads of time,” He mused. “Do you wander or do you find yourself trapped and seek to find the way out?”

You hung your head and brought the fabric closer to examine it. The wrinkles of its former twists marred the smooth silk. The lines could not be steamed or ironed out. They would remain after so long restrained.

“How the time does seem to pass so slowly and yet so quickly.” You said and tucked away the fabric. “And this night does wane in kind.”

“My lady,” He stepped closer, but not too close, and your guard clinked his sword against the stone. “You cannot undo what is done. You would only torture yourself by dwelling on it.”

“This court is all so eager to forget. To sweep aside what was and for what?”

“You think too much.”

“Or not enough. Perhaps if I had thought more, I’d not be in this position.”

“Or perhaps you’d be in worse.” He breathed. “You cannot save her, but you can save yourself.”

“And what do you care?” You challenged.

He shrugged. “I’ve seen women come and go. Now I should see the one I never thought to see gone on her way out. And I see you and I foresee the same. But I also see another end. A better one which you might attain should you learn from those who came before. Should you use that which the other women never had to your favour.”

“Which would be?”

“His love. You might not believe it to be such but it is as close as he’ll ever know,” He said. “Foster it. Nurture it. For if you appease his heart, you do assure your fate.”

You shook your head and the lamplight wavered and cast shadows over him. “Why do you say this to me?”

“Because I do not relish the thought of seeing you in Eleanor’s place,” He said as he stood straight. “In fact, I think I might fear that as much as you.”

You stared at him in the firelight. He wasn’t the sardonic lord or staunch advisor, he was just him. He was genuine. And he was the first you’d know at court to be thus. Your lips parted but your thoughts never reached them.

“I shall bid you good night, my lady,” He said. “I should hope you find yourself safely back to your chambers.”

“And you, my lord,” You returned. He bowed and hesitated before he finally turned away. You watched him go and let the lamp hang at your side.

“If I may, my lady,” Your guard remarked. “I think he might be right.”

“Do you think that?” You looked to him in the dull glow of the lamp.

“Why surely,” He said, “It would be a pity to end up as the queen has.”


	19. Chapter 19

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This Chapter: The trial concludes.
> 
> Warnings: eventual dark elements (tags to be added as fic continues)
> 
> This is dark!(king)Steve and explicit. 18+ only.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It’s Christmas Eve. I’m at work as this is queued for when I start at the retail hellscape but I hope y’all are having a lovely day. I will be taking a break for Christmas day (hopefully. You know I lie about these things). Anyways, her’s another chapter. Love you. <3 Enjoy.
> 
> <3 Let me know what you think with a comment. Love ya!

Following your testimony, you sensed the trial coming to a close; as did many others. Each day, the court began with a series of titters and it was more difficult to bring the audience to order. You sat quietly as every day, aware of the glances sent your way throughout the proceedings. The queen remained silent and stony as she heard the witnesses openly besmirch her. You felt as if you shared with her a secret connection; a sense of the doom which had come to ensnare the court.

That day, you listened distantly to Ellis’ introduction. It was a cursed ritual. The queen was marched out in her white gown, the royals sat upon their altar, and the cardinals watched all with quiet judgment. Marion was at your elbow; she remained a staunch ally though it became clear she was just as swept up in the intrigue as any. She’d often nudge you when she noticed the king’s eyes upon you.

Your nights grew even more sleepless. Since your encounter with Lord Barnes outside the queen’s former chambers, you couldn’t think of anything but the glimmer of defeat upon her face as you stood before the court. Though you could absolve yourself by placing the blame upon the will of powerful men, in your heart, you could not elude the stab of guilt. 

_Why had you been so proud as to set yourself above women like Rose? Why had you been so obstinate upon your virtue which hardly mattered as the unmarriagable second daughter of an earl? Why, deflowered and tarnished, you would still have found your way to the convent. Surely it wasn’t hard to buy a habit._

The regrets mounted as the testimony did. You found it hard not to sink upon the bench entirely. You found yourself wringing your hands until they ached, digging your nails into your own palms until they bled. Not even the stained-glass could lend colour to the courtroom, only cast it in ghastly shades of foreboding.

“As we come to our conclusion, there is one witness we have yet to call upon,” Ellis’ voice snatched you harshly from your trance. The detachment you’d come to hone in your dismay. “We shall call to stand as our final witness, King Steven. Your highness, will you testify?”

All looked to the king. He sat up and glanced dramatically at the men on either side of him. He nodded as if in shock. He put on a mighty show for the court and they ate it up like a juicy cut of venison. He stood and smoothed out his dark jacket.

“I shall testify,” He declared as all stood in kind. 

He slipped past Prince Loki and stepped down from the box. He strode to the stand upon his own and all saw the queen’s spine go rigid. Whispers nipped at your neck. The king turned to stand at the podium and Ellis marveled at his stature.

“Your highness, do you promise to tell the truth entirely and without censor before these cardinals and before our lord in this court of the See?”

“I do. I swear it upon the Lord himself and these holy cardinals who sit here today.” The king replied. A politician in his glory. You struggled to keep from a sneer. You’d struggle for times to come. For you would be bound to him until you could not hide it.

“Thank you, your highness,” Ellis continued. “We shall start by asking upon the circumstance of your betrothal to the queen?”

“Well, I assume it was as any betrothal was. At least, I did. Our contract was arranged and she did arrive to fulfill it. Our marriage was documented and witnessed by the kingdom upon the eve of my ascent.” He explained.

“So you did believe it to be valid?”

“Of course, I did.” The king returned.

“And so then, when did you come to doubt it?” Ellis asked as he leaned on his podium.

“Why I did not know of any reason to doubt it until after we were wed. Or what I thought to be wed. The ambassador who did accompany her to see to the union did not reveal to me her standing contract to King T’Challa.” The king looked down and exhaled glumly. “It was my own advisers who did find the discrepancy but were met with silence from Asgard.”

You looked to Prince Loki as he traced his jawline with two fingers. He did not seem perturbed by the statement, only watched with cool eyes.

“And your relationship with the queen, despite your doubts, was it amicable?” Ellis ventured.

“I believe this court has proven it was not,” Steve returned. “But not upon by own fault, I believe. Not at first.”

“And what do you believe soured this relationship?”

“I did try. I did. I was young and hopeful. As my father did love his queen, I longed to share the same bond with my own. I tried, though I cannot deny my flaws, to build something between us. Anything.” He lamented. “And at first, I thought it could be.”

“And then?”

“And then I did not because she saw those hopes dashed. When I would ask after her, she would remain quiet. When I did seek to perform my… husbandly duties, she would not allow it. She would have our marriage barren, the kingdom without an heir for her arrogance. Her paranoia.” The shook his head. “She did accuse me of the most foul offences but still I did try.”

“My lord,” Eleanor’s voice cut through the air. “Am I not allowed a chance to defend myself? To present my half of our relation?”

“You shall have your turn,” Ellis chided. “This is a court, we must allow our witnesses to speak clearly. Without interruption.”

“This trial is not yet decided, Lord Ellis,” Eleanor snarled. “I am still your queen and will not be spoken to thus.”

“Well, _your highness_ ,” Ellis coated the words in venom. “If you shall not abide the rules of the court, you will be removed and forfeit your time at the stand.”

Eleanor did not answer. She stood with her chin high and waited. Ellis returned his attention to Steve.

“Your highness, would you explain to us how the relationship did disassemble?”

“I cannot say for certain when it began but it was not long after our wedding. She grew cold, she was aloof. She could not even pretend to care for me though we do know that in many unions such as ours, it is required.” The king turned to look at Eleanor, he held his head as a kicked dog would. 

“She would not have me and I suspect the only reason she did agree to this fallacious marriage was to flout her father, as she was known to do. As we’ve heard in her refusal to even attend his funeral. Though I did beg her to go; I even offered to travel with her.”

“And what do you think led to her act of treason?”

“Time and hatred.” The king answered. “She did let her loathing for me ferment for years and I do believe her first scheme was to direct me to another lady. To justify her distaste by forcing a detestable offense upon me.”

“You speak of Malford.” Ellis led.

“I speak of the lady who did take this stand so bravely. Of the lady I fear I did place within the sights of the queen’s wrath. Who I did only regard innocently.” The king affirmed. 

“But when I did not take the queen’s bait and catch myself on her snare, she grew desperate. And she sought to dispose of us both. To poison us as we broke fast. For I did seek an audience with Lord Malford and his daughter did happen to be in attendance.”

“And did you suspect Eleanor to have planted the poison?”

“Not immediately. I never thought the woman I’d thought to be my wife should commit a sin so grievous against me. To act so inhumanly towards me, and for what? Because she did regret her deceit of King T’Challa and her own father. Even of myself. She sought to absolve herself before she would be found out.”

“And when did you come to suspect her?”

“When my advisers presented to me the poison used in the food served to me. When they explained to me that the vial had been found in the hands of queen’s servant. That it had been purloined from the chest of the physician upon his last visit to her.” Steve sighed. “I did not want to believe it but the evidence would not allow me to believe otherwise.”

“The very same apothecary who did visit the lady you chased so vehemently,” Eleanor hissed. “Your own physician.”

“The royal physician,” The king corrected as Ellis glared at the queen. “Whom I did offer to the lady when she was injured upon a royal hunt. When she was injured by the will of that who would call herself queen. Who would wield her power for the ill of others.”

“And so we are here,” Ellis intoned. “And you do believe still your marriage to be null?”

“I believe it to have never been,” Steve said quietly. “And that I have been made a fool of before my own kingdom. As this other king,” He nodded to T’Challa, “Has been mocked and the princess’s own homeland. We’ve all been flagrantly deceived by this woman who would so slyly call herself my wife.”

The king went quiet and lowered his hand. He reached to touch his face and all heard the small sniff. He breathed and raised his head. “Forgive me, it does pain me to speak of it.”

“You needn’t apologize, your highness,” Ellis allayed. “You have been most forthcoming in your answers and we do thank you for it.”

“Thank you, Lord Ellis,” The king returned. “I hope I was helpful.”

The queen shook her head as she clasped her hands before her. Steven stepped down from the stand and passed before Eleanor with a pitiable look upon his face. He climbed up to his box as Eleanor pushed her shoulders back. She looked to the cardinals and then to the royals; she did not turn away and you could only imagine the glare she served them.

“Cardinals, we do conclude our calling of witnesses and would open the floor to the accused.” Ellis announced. “We would merely end by asking that you do consider all you have heard in the last weeks and to think deeply on the matter and of the consequence of your verdict. We thank you for your patience and your equanimity.”

“Lord Ellis,” The cardinal who sat centre to the party nodded. “We thank you for your diligent efforts in presenting this case and overseeing the proceedings. We shall here the accused and will retire for our deliberation thereafter.”

Ellis stepped down and sat with the council along the front bench. Eleanor watched him from the corner of her eye before she turned to the cardinals. “Do I have leave to speak, your holiness?” She asked.

“You do,” The cardinal waved his fingers.

"I have a been a loyal wife to Steven for nearly half my life. I have never spoken ill of him and I have never deceived him. Though he would have you see me otherwise, I have been a most faithful and tolerant wife." Eleanor's voice was stern and silenced the hushed remarks of the impatient. 

"And I have been a good queen, as good a queen as I could be. I have lived far from my home and presided over a people who would forsake me my blood. Who would forgive those crimes committed against me because they were committed by one of their own ilk.

"I have listened to these lies and have bore more than any woman, queen or otherwise, should of her own husband. When it was convenient, I was crowned and now that it is no longer, I shall be torn out root and stem.

"I confess to that which I am guilty, that I was envious, that I was spiteful, that I did wish away those who humiliated me. My pride has ever been my greatest flaw.

"I did plot to have the lady thrown from her horse if only to intimidate. But I did not have such grand machinations as poison. Why should I scheme to deploy my own husband and king when his people love me not? When it should have me in worse circumstances than merely a woman betrayed by her own husband?"

Eleanor turned so that she faced the audience. Yellow light shone over her hair and she looked like a lioness ready to pounce.

"This man," She pointed behind her to King Steven, "This fool you call king would have me dethroned so that he may sate his endless appetite. So that he may replace me with a woman he might control more easily. As he controls all of you. As he manipulates and maneuvers this court to his whims."

She snarled and threw up her hands. "There is no hope in recounting the events which have already discussed for you shall not believe it from my lips should I attempt to weed out the lies. You are all the pawns in a game played for the sake of one man's indulgence."

She looked across the audience and her eyes fell upon you. There was a flicker, a crack in the ice. She shook her head and spun to face her judges.

"He is the king of fools and he keeps company with his own kind. My own brother does see to my disposal. There is not a king in this world who would serve any but himself."

She paused and all was silent. All sat in shock at the queen's anger. 

"This is a pauper's court. A mockery of the law." She spat. "Have it done with, this torture has lasted long enough.

"I have nothing more to say to you wolves for you shall have my skin. Only that the tainted soil in which you plant your seed will grow to be rancid and rotten so that one day you shall taste the corruption that festers."

The room was stunned. King Steven boiled as King T'Challa stared at Eleanor and Prince Loki smirked. He seemed all too amused by the scene. You felt as if the chamber had grown smaller.

"Ahem," The cardinal spoke at last. "Is that all you have to say then?"

"There is nothing else to say," She growled as she resumed her former statue-like pose.

👑

The cardinals deliberated for three days. Three days of despair. Not that you could imagine what Eleanor was feeling. You spent most of it alone with the exception of Marge who brought you your meals and tried to easy your pacing anxiety.

When the court was called back to hear the verdict, you felt as if you were in a dream. An unending nightmare. 

You stood with the lords and ladies as they awaited their entrance. When at last the doors opened, you were in no hurry and the last to sit among the rabble. The room was static with anticipation. 

The queen was led in by two guards and strode to her podium. She wore a gown the colour of blood. It reminded you of the rosette. Her skin was milky and her matching hood showed a peek of her ashy hair. She stood proudly to face her judgment.

The court sat as the central cardinal raised his hand for order. The voices slowly hushed and the benches creaked beneath impatient rears. Your spine was straight, your entire body tensed.

The cardinal rose and looked around the chamber. He glanced at the kings and then to his fellow holy men. His pale eyes were glassy but focused.

"It is the duty of the See to sit on behalf of the Lord in trials such as this. To act as his eyes and his voice when it comes to matters of law." He was steady but not rushed In his speech. And while it was surely rehearsed, it did not sound it.

"It is rare that we should ever oversee a case so contentious. That we should hear of crimes so cruel and tragic that they do make us reflect on the very essence of humanity. That we do wonder at the power of kings and queens and the corruption they may sew with it.

"Wealth is not a sin, but greed is among the most heinous. Confidence, no, but avarice surely. Emotion is entirely mortal and yet wrath is most sinister. Envy too. And lust should not be overlooked."

The cardinal crossed his hands over his round stomach as he looked down his puggish nose. "And when these sins mingle together we do witness the most inhumane of crimes." He turned to the queen. "And it is to us to preserve that humanity which remains among us. To protect those who are the victim of such repulsive acts.

"And so it is to us cardinals, bearing the seal of the See and thus of the lord that we hand down our verdict. As we do, we ask you to bear witness to our decision as ordained by the lord."

You felt your breath quicken and reached for Marion's hand. The stained-glass blurred and Eleanor's figure melted into the kaleidoscope.

"Eleanor, daughter of Odin of Asgard, we find you guilty of the crime of adultery in that you did consummate your marriage with King T’Challa of Wakanda and in that your marriage to King Steven was never valid as a result. And of treason in that you did plot to defame and ultimately poison King Steven.”

A ripple went through the crowd. Gasps mixed with whispers, both shocked and malicious. King Steven watched the cardinal, barely able to contain his delight, as King T’Challa listened passively, and Prince Loki crooked a brow but did not seem unhappy. You felt suddenly dizzy and squeezed Marion’s hand.

“My lady, are you well?” She asked as the cardinal called for peace.

You couldn’t answer and only stared at the back of the queen’s head. She didn’t move and you could not see her face. _Was she distraught? Angry? Afraid?_ You felt a twinge of each as you sat dazed on the bench.

“Eleanor of Asgard,” The cardinal called to the dismantled queen. “For your offences, we do sentence you to death.”

The air went out of the room and your breath was crushed from your lungs in your shock. You shook as you clung to Marion and shook your head. “No, no, no…” You repeated over and over as you rocked on the bench. 

Your head spun and you looked to her; her face blended contorted as your lungs filled all at once. You gulped down the air frantically as if you were drowning and the light and shadow stirred together. You felt as if you would suffocate as dark spots speckled the walls, the ceiling, and Marion’s peachy skin. A final rise of voices piqued as you plummeted downward. 

And at once, the world was entirely black.


	20. Chapter 20

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This Chapter: The reader comes to terms with her circumstance.
> 
> Warnings: eventual dark elements (tags to be added as fic continues)
> 
> This is dark!(king)Steve and explicit. 18+ only.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alright, so I close then open so me getting another chapter up at the same time tomorrow (if at all) is unlikely. But I’ll do my best to have one ready for Saturday. Yeah. We’re almost done with this retail BS but not yet. Anyways, here ya go. (I still don’t know about the cummies or how many chapters we’re looking at, sorry). Hope you like it :)
> 
> <3 Let me know what you think with a comment! Love ya!

You were adrift on dark waves; swaying in the current. Helpless and weak. Your head pounded and your chest felt heavy. Slowly you opened your eyes, your lashes fluttered as the swaying continued.

Your vision cleared as you realized you were being carried. You lifted your head and looked up at the dark beard and the blue eyes set above it. Lord Barnes’ grasp was strong and didn't falter under the weight of your body or even your layered skirts.

He sensed the movement and looked down at you. He raised a brow and turned his attention forward. A grin tugged at his lips.

"You couldn't have stirred five minutes ago?" He japed.

"My lady," Marion stood on the other side of Lord Barnes,your guard just behind them. "You're… you're… I was so worried. We all were. The king, he was so distraught."

"What happened?" You spoke hoarsely. You felt oddly calm as Barnes cradled you. "My lord, I think you might put me down now."

"I should think," He stopped sharply in the corridor. You recognized the painting that hung beside you. "And what happened is you did faint at quite the most precipitous time."

He let your feet down to the floor and steadied you. He kept a hold of your elbow. You patted the back of his hand gently.

"I think I can manage." You assured him and he slowly rescinded his hand. You were light-headed but not incapacitated. You touched your forehead at the pang that stabbed your temple. "Oh…"

"My lady?" Marion looked to you anxiously.

"It is only my head. I--I-- Eleanor…"

"There is nothing you could've done to save her," Barnes said. "But we should not discuss such things here."

"We should not discuss them at all, I suppose." Marion braced your arm as you stood straight.

"We should get you to your room, lady," Marion said.

"Yes, the king did send me to see you there," Barnes added. "Though I've never escorted anyone in such a manner."

"Very well," You let Marion tug you along. "Lord Barnes, you might go and assure the king that I am well."

"I will see you along first," He caught your other arm as you stumbled. "Though I might not say you are entirely well."

You sighed but didn’t argue as they led you down the corridor. Another corner and you were at your chamber doors. The guard opened them for you to enter and stood just inside as he watched Barnes and Marion sit you in one of the cushioned chairs. He was one of two who kept vigil at your side. He was the same who had accompanied you on your midnight stroll. Dolan, you believed his name was.

“I shall report that you’ve awoken and he will no doubt send the physician.” Barnes stood with a hand on his belt. “You been sleeping?”

“Not well,” You answered glumly.

“I figured as much.” He nodded wryly. “Why fret so much over what you cannot control?”

“Should I not fret at the fate of another? Of one whom I’ve known for more than two years? For one who, despite her machinations, did have but desperate intentions?” You mourned. “Why, Lord Barnes, you may have the stomach to see another’s death upon your lap but I have but the spine and the gut of a lady.”

He squinted at you and glanced around at the others in the room. “I’ll send for Marge too. She’ll see that you don’t go running around causing any more trouble.”

“Are you my keeper now, my lord?” You challenged as you drew yourself up in the chair. The effort made your head spin.

“I am of the few allies you have,” He countered. “Certainly your frailty has won the sympathy of the court but we’ve witnessed how fickle their favour can be.”

You rubbed your cheek as you leaned on the arm of the chair. You exhaled and shrugged. “Go report to your king. Assure him that I am a maiden most weakened.” You raised your chin to look him in the eye. “I daren’t allow him to think I have an ounce of strength should he seek fault in it.”

“Have you not thought on our previous conversation?” He asked.

“I’ve thought of barely anything else, my lord. How could I given the spectacular we’ve just seen?” You bemoaned. “I’ve thought well and truly. I should appease the king insomuch as I can, though I fear no terms should secure my safety.”

“You are shrewd,” He remarked as he began to walk away. “See that you use that head to your advantage in this match. Do not linger on your next move, but think of that three turns ahead.” 

He bowed his head and turned away from you. He nodded to Dolan and Marion. 

“You should expect the physician, and perhaps the man who does send him forth.” He called over his shoulder as he pulled the door open. “Rest while you can.”

The door closed behind him sharply and Marion approached you cautiously. You waved her to the other chair and looked to Dolan. He showed little emotion but stared back at you.

“Will you keep watch, sir?” You asked. “You are ever so diligent.”

“I will, my lady,” He clutched his pommel. “Shall I turn away Lord Barnes should he return?”

“Why should you do that?” You wondered.

“Pardon my impertinence, my lady, but he does seem overly involved and he does rile you so.”

“That is his manner,” You dismissed. “But I thank you for your concern, sir.”

👑

Marge arrived shortly thereafter as Marion departed. The physician was next and merely recommended wine and rest. He left you and you remained with only your lady servant. You were restless and yet entirely exhausted. You couldn’t figure out how to occupy yourself.

Your tedium didn’t last as a knock came at your doors. Firm and decisive. The butt of your guard’s sword, no doubt. Marge went to welcome your visitor and revealed the king on the other side. His own guard was at his side and Hugh followed him; ever loyal, ever silent.

“Your highness,” You stood and curtsied as he entered. His eyes sparkled as they landed on you. The door closed behind him as Marge shied away along the wall.

“My lady, I did come to look in on you.” He approached and stopped only a foot from you; so sharply as if he kept himself from seizing you entirely. “The physician said you were recovered.”

“I was merely overcome, that is all, your highness.” You said. “The trial did last so long and all those people. I did find myself quite taxed by it all.”

“And no one could blame you, my lady,” He preened. “I was most worried for you.”

“I do appreciate your concern,” You returned. “It was only a lapse. A moment of weakness on my part.”

“Oh, my lady, you are brave,” He cooed as he tentatively stepped closer, “You should sit. I’d hate for you to strain yourself further.”

“Your highness, you are kind,” You sat, if only to keep your distance. You forced a smile upon your face as he pulled the other chair close and lowered himself upon the cushion.

“Oh, but I know we’ve been kept apart by this terrible ordeal,” He leaned on the arm, his gaze unyielding as he watched you. “I did come as much to reaffirm my love for you. To assure you that my heart does remain steadfast.”

You blinked and fought to keep your lips from twisting. You thought of the queen before the court; the verdict handed down by righteous and unfeeling cardinals. 

“As does mine,” You returned. 

Your voice was so thin, so soft, you thought perhaps he did not hear you. That perhaps if he did, he would sniff out the lie.

“It… does?” He squeezed the arm of the chair as he leaned closer. “Truly? You love me?”

You lowered your lashes and nodded. You hoped the gesture seemed shy and you did not show the fear that trapped your voice in your throat. He reached over and touched your hand. You almost flinched but instead lifted your eyes to his. Your cheeks hurt from the farce that stretched your lips.

“Your majesty, I do feel quite ashamed to admit it this day with all that has transpired. Oh, it does feel wrong indeed.” Your heart beat so loudly in your ears, you swore he heard it too.

“But how can it be? The court declared my marriage null. It cast down a vile woman who should pretend upon the throne and did conspire to keep us apart, even through our deaths,” His grip grew tighter as he spoke. “There is no need for us to hide it any longer.”

“Would it not be proper, at least, to withhold from any outward displays until… until the sentence is served?” You trembled against your will but still you smiled.

“Of course we will not make any such announcement until it has truly ended but… well, I did speak to your father and we shall meet on the morrow. We must hurry, you understand, before the cardinals do depart.” He explained as he sat back, your hand still in his as he rubbed his thumb along it. “I would have our betrothal sealed by the See itself.”

“I… see,” You breathed. “The time does pass quite swiftly, does it not?”

“All the better,” He raised your hand to his lips and kissed it. “For I cannot wait to call you my wife.” He turned your hand over and kissed your palm, too. “My queen.”

You gulped and nodded. You wanted to wrench your hand away but you let him hold it, let him caress it with his lips. 

“All the better.” You agreed as your cheek twitched. “My king, I do apologize, I have grown most weary.”

He stared at you a long moment and then bowed his head. He squeezed your hand one last time before he stood. Despite his disappointment, he remained buoyant. He seemed enlivened by the verdict. A man freed in his mind. Within reach of the prize he’d set his eye on. You felt like the elk in the forest, the king’s crossbow aimed at your heart.

“I shall allow you your respite,” He said as he squared his shoulders. “These coming weeks should be rather momentous.”

“So they should be,” You made to rise and he put his hand up to stop you.

“My lady, please, you must gather yourself,” He chided gently. “I wish you a good night… I am most impatient for what dawn should bring.”

“As am I, my king.” You mimicked his enthusiasm as best you could. You felt like a bird chirping for a cracker.

“My king,” He smirked, “I like that.” He bowed his head again. “My lady.”

He turned and barely seemed to notice Marge as she opened the door or Hugh as he scurried to catch up. You watched him go; his step as if marching off on some valiant mission. For him, the battle was over; he was the victor and the spoils were within his grasp.

👑

The sky was grey and a frigid rain fell over the capital. It was as if the sun mourned as you did. It was three days since the trial. The day Eleanor would meet her death. You still found it difficult to sleep and with almost daily visits from the king, your waking hours were just as restless.

You woke at dawn and paced until the sky lightened. You stopped several times to look out the window. From there you could see the edge of the Fort to the rear of the castle. She was to be executed on the green; the square framed by the walls of the prison itself. Your father was too attend along with the rest of the council; the cardinals were to see their sentence carried through before their departure; but the king would be in his chambers, feigning grief as the woman he condemned met her fate.

Your grief was all too real. You didn't eat and as noon loomed closer, you found it even more difficult to do anything but think of the Fort and Eleanor. _What was she doing then? How did one prepare for their death? How did they muster the courage to meet it directly without quaking?_ You did not know for you knew you could never be so brave.

And then you could hide no more. You went to the door and Marge winced at your sudden movement. You pulled the door open yourself and found yourself blocked by the arm of the guard without. Dolan stared back at you sternly.

"My lady, where are you going?" He asked and stayed as he was.

"To say goodbye," You looked over your shoulder, "Marge, fetch me a cloak and one for yourself. I care not which."

" My lady, I cannot let you--"

"I will go. I must and I shall climb from my own window if you try to prevent me. And should I have to jump, I will." You insisted. "For if I remain, I could not live with myself."

"My lady," Dolan said with exasperation.

"Who will know it? The king will not come for it should look improper to visit me on the day of the former queen's execution and who else should think to stumble upon my chamber?"

He stared at you and frowned. The lines along his cheeks deepened and he sighed. "You may go only if I do."

"As you must," You accepted and turned as Marge offered you a cloak. "Let us be off."

Dolan stepped aside reluctantly and followed behind with Marge as you rushed to the stairs. You grew more frantic with each step and were sure you would be too late. _Too late for what?_ Well, it wasn't as if you could save her now.

"My lady," Dolan said as his mail clinked. "We may not reach the Fort in time."

"It would be worse not to try," You said as you reached the bottom of the winding stairs. "Though I might say otherwise when it is done with."

Outside, your slippers were soaked through with the residue of late winter snows. You lifted your skirts but the hems were soon wet as well. Your small party approached the Fort, only to be stopped by two guards at the gate.

"What is your business here?" The first one asked. He eyed Dolan's golden armor which set his own black mail in drabness.

"The only business there is this day," Dolan returned. "Surely, you wouldn't think to turn away a royal guard."

"Surely wouldn't," The second guard said dryly. "Only councilmen and holy men on the green. You'll not make it much further than here."

"So be it," You said and the guards unbarred the gate. 

When you stepped within, you stopped before the front door of the immense prison and looked to Dolan. "Why, I don't even know where we are going, sir."

"We won't be able to go out on the green, lady. The guard was right but there is a vantage point just above." He pointed to the Fort vaguely. "I'm afraid we won't get much further than that."

"Then it'll have to do," You waved him forward and he marched ahead to the front doors of the prison.

The guards waved him in and didn't give you or Marge a second glance. Likely they had seen quite a few bodies pass through that day. Lords and cardinals alike.

Within, Dolan led you to the east staircase and past the second floor. Upon the third, he opened a studded door and waited for you to proceed. He followed closely as you walked along the walkway that looked down over the green through grated windows.

"Here, my lady," He stopped and pointed through the metal bars. "It is not ideal but the best advantage we shall gain."

You nodded and looked around. Your eyes prickled and you felt a sense of breathlessness. 

"What troubles you, my lady?" Marge asked.

"Just… to think that Eleanor has spent her last days in a place such as this," You touched your stomach and gasped. "Oh, I should weep at that alone."

"She would've been housed in the royal tower. There is a set of chambers there meant for prisoners of repute." Dolan offered. "She would still have a servant or two with her as well."

"You know much of the fort, sir." You looked to him.

"I did tend the yard here as a youth, before I was accepted to the king's service. I would train with the stable hands and a lord did see me fighting with a broomstick. He replaced it with steel and trained me proper."

"Why, I'd never have thought so," You said. "You wouldn't seem a groundskeeper to me."

"It's the armour. It distracts from my gardener's hands." He quipped.

A single bell rang. You jumped at the loud clang of metal as it filled the fort. Your eyes rounded and you swallowed. You turned and neared the windows to look down on the green. 

A stage had been built on the frozen grass. A dozen men in black coats stood before it; the lords of the council in their mock mourning. The three cardinals stood out in their white cloaks and several guards stood across the stage with the executioner and along the yard. 

Another man stood further back, his dark hair sleek and his hands clasped behind his back. Prince Loki did not show an ounce of concern as he awaited the day’s event. He merely stood and watched the empty stage.

The bell tolled twelve times before it ceased. It echoed for a time as a deep voice called. You didn't understand the words as they were muffled by the glass and metal. The men turned to look at the stage and the man with the sword turned his weapon so that it caught the meagre sliver of the overcast sun.

A door opened at the far corner of the fort and a guard in black emerged. Another came after him and then Eleanor herself. Two more guards followed as she walked across the green towards the stage. 

She was clothed in deep purple; the colour of royalty; of a queen. A white cloak billowed from her shoulders. A white cap concealed her hair, like that worm by servants, though upon her it seemed a crown.

You forced yourself to breath as your chest burned. You brought your hands up to the grated window as you leaned against it to watch. She held her head high and walked as she would to her throne. You were enraptured by her; by her tragedy.

"My lady, you needn't watch," Dolan said quietly.

"I must," You rasped. "So that I may learn from it. Perhaps even avoid the same."

Eleanor climbed the steps one at time. She did not dally, merely kept her even pace. The lords didn't bow though she did not acknowledge them as she greeted her executioner with a nod of her head. She spoke to him briefly before she turned to her sparse audience.

She looked at each one of them and spoke again. You couldn't hear her from your vantage and you pressed your nose to the window. You quivered as she turned to the executioner once more with a final short remark. 

She stood, head high, shoulders back, and waited. A guard stepped forward as she undid her cloak and helped remove it. She lowered herself to her knees and still did not waver. The executioner gripped his flat-tipped sword as he watched her.

She looked up to the sky. A hollow silence overtook the fort and you gasped as she spotted you upon the walkway. At least, she looked towards you and it felt like she recognized the small figure in the window. 

Silver whistled through the air as the executioner drew back. His blade descended in a perfect arc and did not falter as it met flesh and bone. It took no more than a single swing to dispatch the queen.

You were stunned as her head toppled to the stage and rolled off the edge. Her body was stiff and remained straight for a few seconds before it fell forward too. Your lips parted in a silent scream. 

Your tears flowed as freely as the queen's blood. You felt a nudge at your shoulder and a tug on your elbow. You didn't move; couldn't. She was dead. Gone. And you remained.

_For now._


	21. Chapter 21

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This Chapter: The reader panics.
> 
> Warnings: eventual dark elements (tags to be added as fic continues)
> 
> This is dark!(king)Steve and explicit. 18+ only.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Lol, y’all are gonna hate the reader bc you only seem to get more and more annoyed by her decisions but also, I’m just going with it so here’s to winging it. Enjoy the adventure.
> 
> <3 Let me know what you think with a comment! Love ya!

You couldn't recall leaving the Fort. A fog fell over you as you watched the guards wrap up the corpse of the dead queen and load her onto a cart. It only began to clear as you rushed through the halls of the castle; your guard and maid just behind you. A deathly pall filled your lungs and made it hard to breathe.

You shook so much you could not grasp the door handle. Marge unlatched your doors and pushed them open for you. You turned to Dolan as he hovered behind you. You fidgeted with your cuffs as you struggled to find words.

"Stay," You breathed to him. "Please."

He nodded and turned to take his place against the stone wall as you entered your chamber and Marge closed the doors. You stopped just inside and stared at the grey windows. Your legs wobbled and crumpled beneath you. You fell into a heap and covered your face as you began to sob.

Marge tiptoed around you and knelt at your side. She touched your shoulder as you were wracked with tears. Your hood drooped forward and you tore it from your head to toss it aside. You wept upon the floor until you laid across it, your head buried beneath your arm.

"My lady," Marge stayed close, her hand still upon your arm. "Is there anything I can do?"

You sniffed and wiped your face on your sleeve before you lifted your head. Your temples pounded and your eyes felt swollen. You sat up, barely able to keep from keeling over again.

"Marge, my jewelry box," You croaked. "Empty it into a purse. As much as you can fit." 

"My lady?" She frowned.

"Just do as I say." You pushed yourself to your knees and lifted yourself entirely from the floor. "Now."

Her eyes rounded but she quickly turned and scurried into your bedchamber. You went to the window and leaned upon the ledge as you looked down at the pale grass peeking out from beneath the melting snow.

"My lady," She returned but you did not turn to face her. "It is done."

"Very good." Your mind whirred as the clouds began to shift. "Now you shall fetch my food for me. Fetch enough for yourself as well."

"My lady. Shall I fetch wine?" She asked.

"Water or milk," You turned at last from the window. "I shall need a clear mind."

👑

The window was black. It was late and the castle was asleep. All but you. Marge had eaten both meals on her own as you paced. You couldn't stay still. Couldn't shutter the erratic pulse which had overcome you.

You looked up at the moon, a blurry halo through the clouds. You turned back and watched Marge as she dozed on the couch. You crossed to her and knelt, gently waking her with a whisper and pat on her arm.

"My lady?" Her eyes snapped open and she sat up.

"Shhh." You brought a finger to your lips. "Marge… I need your clothes."

"Pardon?" She asked.

"Please. We must hurry. You must do everything I say."

"My lady, what are you--"

"Please, please, don't ask any questions for if you knew the answers you'd surely be guilty in kind." You kept quite as you stood. "Now help me out of this gown."

Marge was reluctant and confused. She helped you out of you dress and shyly undressed herself. You took her plain brown wool and slipped into it swiftly. It was too tight around the middle and the sleeves were too long. You pulled her cap over your hair and checked yourself in the mirror.

You tucked the purse of jewels down your bodice and slung a cloak under your arm. You tucked the handful of coin you had into the gowns only pocket hidden along the seam.

"It's dark, Dolan will have a tired eye." You spoke in a low whisper. "When I begin to open the door, bid me a loud farewell. I shall slip out in your guise and you will remain."

"My lady, where are you going?" She followed you across the room.

"It's better you do not know." You assured her as you stopped just inside the door. You leaned close and spoke in her ear. "When they ask, you will tell them I threatened you. And in a way, I do for if you think to betray me now, I shall find a way to return the favour most grievously."

"You can't--"

"I must." You hissed and reached for the door. " Now, make sure he can hear you."

She stared at you a moment and swallowed. "Good night, my lady," She chimed loudly as you opened the door slowly. "I will return in the morning." 

You flitted out into the hall and kept your chin down. The guard barely acknowledged you as you kept your face away from him. The shadows shrouded you and aided in your deception. Dolan grunted as if he had been awoken but said nothing else. 

You turned and walked away from him with measured steps. You expected him to call after you at any moment but he did not. You turned the corner and willed yourself not to run. You took the cloak from under your arm and threw it over your shoulders.

You pushed into the staircase, careful to close the door softly behind you. You could not restrain yourself further and rushed down the stairs until you were dizzy. You stopped at the bottom and listened for signs of life in the grand foyer.

Guards stood at the front doors and you stepped out into the dim light of the lanterns that hung above them. You neared calmly and they watched you dully.

"Where are you off to?" The first guard asked.

"My master does send me on an errand," You answered plainly.

"This late?" The second intoned.

"I did think the same but did not relish the back of his hand," You stated. "But so is the lot of a castle servant."

"Mmp, a pity," The first grumbled. "Best be on your way. The longer you wait, the more treacherous the city grows."

"I do not venture fare thankfully," You lied. For a moment, you were impressed by yourself. 

They let you pass without further concern and the guards without barely seemed to notice the servant sweeping across the yard. At the castle gate, you were stopped again. 

"You should tell your master to wait until the dawn." The gristly words rose in the night as the guard motioned for the other to the winch. Both of them worked to turn the large gear until the gate shifted. "Can't say you'll find your way back in before then."

You slipped through the small crack between the doors and the chain began to wind up and the doors shifted back into place. You looked out across the bridge to the dark capital. The sky was black and cloudy and the air crisp and biting. 

You pulled your cloak around you and set off across the cobbled crossing. You touched the bundle hidden beneath your dress; the king's garish gifts. You hoped they could buy you a horse fast enough to see you far away from the capital.

👑

You took off your cap as you approached the tavern. Voices leaked out from inside the slummy drinking hole. You crept around the side of the building and unclasped your cloak. You dragged it through the mud and across the wooden wall. You messed the fabric until it looked worn.

You replaced it around your shoulders and pulled at your hair until it hung loosely in its plait. You dug inside your bodice and pulled a ruby necklace forth. You hid it in your fist and went around to the front door.

You stepped inside to the hazy glow of lanterns and the rabble of drunken patrons. A few looked up from their mugs as women in poorly fitting gowns slung themselves over several of the men. No doubt they sought to fill their purses.

You went to the bar and the man behind it greeted you with a side eye. You crossed your arms against the wooden counter as you glanced along it. You'd never been to a place like this; your father always acted like a king rather than an earl.

"I need to buy a horse," You said to the barkeep. He shrugged and filled a stein for a man on the other side of the bar.

"I sell ale, not horses," He grunted.

"And you haven't any customers who would?" You insisted. "Surely, you must have a man who might trade a horse for a price."

"You don't look like you've a price to pay," He growled.

"I might barter," You returned. "Can you not point me towards one who might hear me?" 

You reached to the small pocket sewn into the dress and pulled forth a golden coin. You placed it on the bar and slid it across. 

"A name isn't worth so much, is it?" You said.

"I've a horse," A man two stools down turned and stood. "If you don't mind a nip or two."

You looked to the man as the barkeep eyed the coin. You flicked the gold to him anyway and turned away.

"Is it here?" You asked.

"Just outside. No doubt stomping down the shit." The bald man answered. "Skinny but fast."

"And you're willing to part with him?"

"If you pay me enough to buy a better mount, gladly," He grinned. "So…"

"If you humour me," You countered, "I think we should sit and figure out what a better steed would cost."

"Surely," He nodded to a table between a group of men gambling and another man with a whore in his lap.

You followed him and sat across from him. "Do you have a knife?" You asked.

"Several." He squinted.

"May I see one. For a second." You ventured. "I've a loose thread upon my sleeve." 

He leaned on the table as he reached to his belt and tossed a sheathed knife onto the table. You picked it up and weighed it in your hand. 

"Right, I'll keep the knife and take the horse." You brought your other hand up and set the ruby on the table. You bared the blade as he reached to cover it. "Where's the horse then?"

"He is unsaddled." He warned.

"But he must have a bit. Is he not at a post?"

"He does." He held up the ruby then quickly tucked it away. "He's outside. To the south corner. Colour of hay with a white mark over his brow." He smirked and patted his pocket. "He'll toss you."

"I'll hold on tight." You stood and tapped the blade against the leather sheath. "If you can't find a horse worth the necklace, I'm certain you'll afford yourself a pretty pint."

You turned and swept away from the man. You gripped the knife as you pressed through the door into the street. You went to the post along the far end of the building. There were only three horses.

You found the pale one with the mark above its brow as it chewed on the wooden post. He looked up as you neared and stomped with a snort. You slowed and reached out cautiously to the beast. He lifted his head to sniff your hand and blew again, a glob of spit splattered against your palm.

You sheathed the knife and tucked it into the cloak. You carefully untied the reins as the horse watched you. You clicked at it as you tried to lead it away from its post. It didn't move. You tugged and it planted its hooves.

You huffed and hung your shoulders. You dropped the reins and crossed your arms. "Fine then. Go on. I'll walk." 

You shook your head and turned your back. If you set off now you could sneak out of the city in a farmer's cart. The clop of hooves crunched through the traces of snow and frozen dirt. The horse's hot breath glossed over your hair. 

You spun to look at it as it pushed its nose to your cheek. It sniffed again and raised its head. You stared up at him and reached for the leather straps. He didn't flinch as you took them again.

He didn't move as you rounded him and ran your hand over his back. You went to its other side and kicked yourself off the post to swing your leg over his high back. You barely managed to cling to him and lift yourself into place before he began to move. 

You bent over its neck as your heart beat frantically and you steadied yourself. You sat up and squeezed it with your thighs as your lack of saddle made you feel perilous upon its back. He picked up his pace as you steered him to the street and it huffed again in the night. You echoed him and pet his tangled mane. 

"Let's go'" You said and gripped the reins firmly. "As far as we can."

👑

When you reached the next village, you bought a saddle bag and filled it with dried meat and stale bread. You had a skin of water to replenish at the rivers and followed the water from town to town, farmstead to farmstead. Three days and you felt a world away from the capital. Away from your life.

You slept in ill-kept barns or cheap rooms let by inns for too much coin. You were ragged and exhausted. You smelled like your horse and shared its demeanour. Anxious and temperamental. 

It was past noon as you reached Shell's Harth. The maritime city a few miles from port. You hoped to find a shop to rid yourself of the wares hidden in your bodice. You would try to find a jeweler to sell the last of your baubles and at the port after that, buy your passage across the water.

Your horse's hooves kicked up the frozen dirt as you came upon the cobbled streets. You rode with ease, sore and worn out. The air was damp with the nearby waterway and bit at your raw cheeks.

You reined in your horse as you came in sight of another. Its golden brown coat was familiar and its its saddle suggested a wealthy rider. The mount lifted its head and its bold brown eyes met yours in a moment of recognition. Marigold.

Your horse reared as you yanked on the reins a bit too roughly. You turned and tried to steady the beast beneath you as a wooden door loudly clattered against its frame. You glanced over and found the horse's owner staring up at you from the step of the shop.

"Oh lord," You swore as you pressed your legs to the horse's sides and veered him all the way around.

You bent over the horse's long neck and urged it to run with your voice and the leather straps in your hands. Lord Barnes called after you then to his men. You dashed down the next street and for a moment, you were back in the forest. Out of control and lost.

Your horse raced over the cobbles and you heard the stampede after you. You glanced over your shoulder and spotted Barnes and his three men on their mounts. They charged after you.

You turned off the streets and dodged between some leaning buildings. You hurtled along the next street and the next. You held on tightly as the horse sped up with each step.

You darted down another alley but your horse slid to a sudden stop as a wall appeared before you. You cursed and turned back only to find yourself cornered by another.

Lord Barnes kept his horse across the alley way as he watched you. You were out of breath as you heard his men pass and continue down the street. 

"Why?" You gasped as your horse jerked you back and forth.

"I should ask you the same. Why did you run?"

"I can't-- I saw her die. How could I stay?" You hissed. "Just let me go."

"Where?"

"Anywhere. Damn it, are you really going to drag me back to him?"

"I have to." He said grimly.

"You have to? Why must you do everything he tells you?"

"Because he can take everything he gave me," He shook his head. "Do you know how we became friends? Hmm? I was the stable master's son and I tended the prince's horse. Not really a traditional manner of gaining a duchy. Those who remember my father are certain to whisper as much."

"And is a title worth your humanity?"

"It is all I have. Don't make this harder than it needs to be."

"It doesn't need to be like this." You pleaded.

"I have let to bound you and drag you back." He said quietly.

"Please…" You gasped as tears pricked at your eyes.

"Come and say you were afraid of the throne but do not mention Eleanor." He warned. "Say you were panicked at the thought of a crown. Afraid of your own love. Perhaps he will show mercy." 

"Do you think he should kill me?" You asked.

"No, worse," His blue eyes shone with pity. "You're useless to him dead."

You closed your eyes and exhaled. Your shoulders drooped and you groaned. "Damn you, James."

"I'm already damned," He grumbled. "Come on. I'd rather not use the rope."


	22. Chapter 22

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This Chapter: The reader faces the king.
> 
> Warnings: dark elements (non/dubcon, oral)
> 
> This is dark!(king)Steve and explicit. 18+ only.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In general on the shorter side of the chapter scale but not the shortest one I’ve posted. I hope you all enjoy it regardless. Hope I have some time tomorrow to work on the next part but we’ll see. <3
> 
> <3 Let me know what you think with a comment! Love ya!

You could see the capital. Lord Barnes had kept the pace pressing. He claimed so that the king had less time to seethe. You suspected it was as much to have his task over with. That’s what you were; a goal. An order given to him by his master.

You were exhausted. The winter had receded in the days since your flight. The snow had turned to puddles though the air still bit through your filthy cloak. You felt as bad as you likely looked.

You slowed as you saw the castle’s peaks above the city. Barnes pulled back his horse and neared with a stern look.

“You run, I’ll catch you again.” He warned.

“I’m stupid but I learn my lesson the first time,” You huffed. “Why?”

“What?”

“You could’ve let me go. You could’ve said you didn’t find me. That’s I’d made the port before you could catch my ship.” 

“He’d know.” He sounded as distraught as you felt. “It’s the reason he keeps me around. I find people. It’s what I do. I’m not just the tracker for his tawdry hunts.”

“Does he hunt people often?”

“He is a king. He is hunted just as often as he sets out for prey.” Barnes sighed as you drew up to the city gate. He talked briefly to the city officers there and was waved through. “Pull your hood up.” He commanded.

You did as he said and kept your head down. You looked at your dirtied hands as you held the reins of the sandy beast below. You chuckled to yourself as you swayed.

“What’s so amusing?” Barnes asked.

“You.” You scoffed. “I recall you called yourself my ally. It’s funny, now.”

“I am your ally,” He said. “Perhaps you do not like your circumstance, but I seek to make it simpler for you. If you’d only listen.”

“If I listen, will it keep him from his wrath? Will it keep him from whatever cruelty he has planned?” You lamented. “Perhaps I should’ve listened but… I had to try.” You breathed the crisp spring air. “Living with consequences is always preferable to living with what could’ve been.”

“I suppose,” He accepted as your horses clopped along the streets. “You may disregard my advice as you have in the past but I would offer you more.”

“Which is?” You wondered.

“You’re humble, you’re honest. At least he knows you to be. Use what he knows of you, even if it’s been tainted, and coax him.” He said. “Apologize, Beg him. Tell him all I said before. That you feared a crown; that you were intimidated. Tell him you’d nearly been poisoned and you feared another attempt on your life. Just don’t tell him you feared him. And certainly don’t mention Eleanor.”

“You think he will listen?” You asked.

“I think you can make him listen.” He returned. “I think you look up at him with those eyes and plead, he will. I know I would.”

You looked to him from under your hood. He stared ahead as he guided his horse lazily. Though he was the only who spoke to you, you found he did not often look at you. He looked forlorn; anxious. You’d never seen him so human.

“I’ll try.” You relented.

“Do.” He said. “This place has had enough turmoil.”

“And what will the court think of the girl who ran?” You challenged.

“The last they saw you, you were on the floor. To think you might be confined in your brief sickness would not be far-fetched.” He affirmed.

👑

Dolan was gone, Marge too. A stranger with lines along his forehead and a crooked nose stood outside your doors. Another awaited you within. Lord Barnes was careful to secret you in a long the back passageways. None had stumbled upon the road-wearied party.

“Get cleaned up,” Barnes said as he gripped the door handle. “He won’t be long.”

Your new maid was older than Marge. Her dull brown hair was laced with silver and she had a long pointed chin that gave her a dour air. She was curt and used your title and nothing more.

You felt horrid as the woman scrubbed your skin raw. _You hadn’t thought it through, had you? It wasn’t just about you and now… well, you didn’t even know what happened to them. They were just gone._

The woman, who hissed her name at you, was Rita. Her hands were rough as she plaited your hair and she scratched you as she helped you into your gown. She laced it tight enough to labour your breath and kept her eyes on the floor when not given a task.

You couldn’t sit. You wanted Marge there to tell you it would all be fine. You wanted Dolan outside to keep you safe, not keep you trapped.

You stopped your pacing as you heard the disturbance. It was just in the corridor. The muffled metallic rustle of mail and the approach of footsteps. The deep voice that accompanied them had your heart alight.

You were shaking as you stared at the door. Rita stared dully at the carpet. She was useless. You fixed your hood and gulped as the door handle clicked. The doors swung open and the king appeared in the frame.

He charged in, his blue eyes flared as they met yours. You were a mouse and he was a barn cat. He didn’t look away as he waved to the maid.

“Out.” He ordered. 

She obeyed eagerly and slipped out behind him. The guard pulled shut the doors. He glared at you as his chest rose and fell angrily. You blinked a him as you willed your body to cease its quaking. You hadn’t been alone with the king since the night of the harvest in that dark corridor.

“My king,” You breathed.

Your voice incensed him and he marched towards you. You retreated as he came forward and felt your way around the couch and nearly stumbled as he backed you up against the wall. You closed your eyes as you pressed yourself to the stone and his hand went to your throat. He held you there but didn’t squeeze.

“Why?” He whispered.

Your eyes snapped open as you stared up at him. Your lips parted but your voice would not rise.

“Why did you run?” He sneered.

You slowly touched his hand but didn’t try to move it. “Be-because I love you.”

His eyes narrowed as his brows lowered darkly.

“My king, I do love you but…” You thought of your conversation with Barnes. _Coax him; appease him any way you could._ Eleanor’s blood coloured your vision. “But I was afraid.”

“Afraid?”

“Y-yes, I was afraid that I…” You gulped and gently caressed his hand as he gripped you tighter. “I’m not good enough. I am an earl’s second daughter and this court has little enough room for me. You’re a king, I… How could I ever deserve you?”

His brows lifted slightly and he ran his thumb up along your jaw and sighed. “And I swore to make you my queen,” He said. “And so long as you hold that title, you should fear none. Have I not already dispatched our enemies?”

“I am so sorry, my king. I know I was wrong but…” Your peered up at him and searched his stony face. “I am young and I need your… guidance.”

“My guidance?” He echoed.

“Yes. Yes. I am so young and it would have me foolish and you have long been king and how can I ever hope to be your queen. Please…” You squeezed his wrist. “Forgive me? Forgive me, please?”

“You left me,” He said.

“I did,” You lowered your eyes dramatically. “But It was not for lack of love. It was my own cowardice that did see me away.”

He was quiet. He exhaled and slowly removed his hand. He stood over you and you looked up at him again. You clasped your hands before you as if in prayer as you begged.

“I shall never think of it again. I could never leave you. Do you not think that it did not pain me to leave? Do you not think I did not cry out there all alone at the thought of never seeing you again?” You stepped closer but didn’t touch him. “I thought of nothing but you.”

He didn’t move. He barely reacted. Your heart was in your throat.

“My king, I did think to protect you. To keep you safe. To preserve your crown; your reputation.” You continued. “Oh, I do see it now. You loathe me, don’t you?”

“ _Loathe_ you?” He tilted his head. “I could never… Never, but you must never leave me again. Ever.”

“I swear, I won’t. I can’t. Not again.” You avowed as you lowered your hands.

“But…” He caught your hand and clung to you. “I cannot forgive you so easily.”

“I don’t… What do you mean?” 

“We are betrothed now, it would only be proper that we mark our reunion with some… affection.” He suggested.

“Betrothed?” Your eyes rounded.

“In your absence, I did secure our contract with your father. Sealed by the cardinals before their departure.” He smirked. “Of course, I could not compromise your virtue but that can be left in tact.”

“My king?”

“Your hands, your mouth…” He intoned as he drew you against him. “We both know you use that so well.”

“We can’t, it would be--”

“A secret.” He breathed as he wrapped his fingers around your wrist and shoved your hand down between your bodies. “Do not fret, you will remain a virgin until we wed. Your modesty will still be yours.”

“I--”

He pulled your hand down sharply and pressed it to his crotch. You felt a firmness through the fabric and gasped. He seemed pleased by your shock as he watched your mouth fall open.

“I’ve never-- I don’t--” You sputtered. You could barely think let alone speak.

“I’ll guide you,” He purred. “As you asked of me.”

You tried to pull away but he was too strong. He turned your hand so that you cupped him through his trousers. He groaned and bent to nuzzle your hair.

“Don’t be shy.” He growled. A warning.

He released your hand but you didn’t rescind it. You were too frightened to do anything.

He fiddled around as his other arm kept you close. His pants slackened as he picked at the laces. He reached down again and led your hand above his fly. He shoved it beneath the fabric as you felt his flesh against your palm.

“Grab it,” He rasped in your ear.

You wrapped your fingers around him. Your heart hammered in your chest as he placed his hand around yours. Slowly he led you up and down his cock. You closed your eyes and forced back the tears.

“Go on,” He let you go and you carried the motion.

He shivered against you as his breath singed your ear and neck. Low groans floated around you as you kept your hand moving. Standing there with his arm around you, leaned over you entirely, you were trapped. His size and strength overwhelmed your mind. The sheer power of the man ensnared you.

“Oh lord,” He moaned as his hand fell below your waist and he grasped your skirts. “So good.”

You urged yourself on. This was what you had to do. If you wanted to keep your head, you had to bite your lip and bear it. So you did.

“Wait, wait,” He stilled your hand. 

He drew himself up slowly as he pulled your hand from his pants. He led you back to the couch and he sat. He grinned up at you as he released your hand. He sat back and pushed apart the top of his pants.

“On your knees, my lady,” He ordered.

You watched dumbly as he bared himself above his pants. You blanched. You shook and wiped your sweaty hands on your skirts.

“My lady.” He lifted a brow.

You got to your knees carefully as he pushed his legs apart. He beckoned you further and rubbed his thigh as he gripped himself with his other hand. You thought he was big but couldn’t be sure as you’d never seen any other man thus.

“Use your mouth,” He intoned. “A little at a time.”

You tried to smile but your cheeks trembled and you could barely hold your head up in your shame. You moved closer and shyly touched him. You gripped him and looked at his member. _Just do it._

You bent your head and felt him twitch as your lips met his tip. You opened your mouth over him and slowly took him. You barely had him halfway in before you pulled back to breathe. He shuddered and groaned.

You repeated the action as your spit spread along his cock. You were sickened by the salty taste but felt an odd tickle in your stomach. The soft rasps that flowed from him stoked in you a deep yearning. For the act itself; perhaps, for the man too. You couldn’t be sure.

He reached to your hood and slipped it from your head. He spread his hand across the back of your head and forced you to speed up. You gulped around him as you tried not to choke and he pushed you down until he slipped down your throat.

Your hand fell to his trousers and you clawed at the fabric as he slid deeper. You couldn’t breath as your throat burned around him. You raised yourself up and craned your neck awkwardly as you tried to accommodate him. He pulled back and you gasped for air before he quickly shoved himself back in.

“Oh,” He hummed as he moved his hips in time with your head. “Fuck.”

You reached up to his jacket and tugged at it desperately as he never wavered. He battered your throat over and over again as you fought not to wretch. You were dizzy and out of breath. The saliva dripped from your mouth and down his cock as he worked you faster and faster.

He swore again and pulled you off of him. He buried his fingers in your plait and pulled your head back as he stroked himself. He grunted as he held you in place and you felt a warmth just above your bodice. 

He exhaled and let go of you as he fell back against the couch. His head lolled as he closed his eyes and you sat back on your heels. You looked at your chest; a glossy white trickled down to your bodice and cooled along your skin.

“I forgive you, my love.” He breathed. 

You looked up at him in horror. At him. At yourself. Of the thought of you on your knees with his seed on your chest. Of the marriage pact he’d signed even as you’d tried to flee him.

You could never escape this place. Or him.


	23. Chapter 23

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This Chapter: The reader welcomes old and new faces.
> 
> Warnings: dark elements
> 
> This is dark!(king)Steve and explicit. 18+ only.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alright, so I managed another chapter. I’m working an awful shift that gives me no time before or after and it’s all so depressing. That being said, I think we all sense cummies in our near future as we get closer and closer to the thottening. Anyways. Enjoy. :)
> 
> <3 Let me know what you think with a comment! Love ya!

Rita reminded you of the tutor you’d shared with your sister. He too was silent and stony. His eyes were full of judgment as you struggled over mathematics or some grammatical rule. The greying maid bore the same air of righteousness. 

You caught her rubbing the skirt of one of your gowns between her fingers with a dark grimace. You likely felt the same of the satin monstrosities but she had her perception of you and you were certain it was as immovable as she was.

You dressed in a moss green gown and pulled a matching cap over your head as your locks peeked out and trailed into a loose chignon. A gold thread lined the edge of the hat and added a majesty to the attire which contrasted your former grey selection. A golden chain of round loops rested along your hips and sparkled in the lantern light.

The king had left late the night before. The maid was not permitted until after he left. You’d cleaned up the mess before she did. Even so, she did not yield. Her dull blue eyes would not meet yours but found you when she thought you were distracted. Her thoughts were of no matter to you. She was a servant. You missed Marge.

A rap at the door and you drew your attention from the book of poetry. The worn leather cover was soft and folded at the corners. Rita crossed to the door as you prepared to rise. You dreaded another visit from the king but it was not unexpected. Though who awaited on the other side was.

Your mother swept past your father and into the chamber. You rose as she barreled towards you. Her skirts billowed from her round figure; her hips wide set and her bosom heavy, though her shape was not unattractive. She wrapped you up in her arms before you could greet her and kissed your cheek. You couldn’t help but smile as she swallowed you up in her warmth.

“Daughter,” She sang as she held you at arm’s length. “Oh I did miss you. And so much else, it seems.”

“Mother,” You beamed back at her. “You’re here.”

“I did arrive just yesterday.” She replied. She released you and turned to marvel at the king’s portrait. “Well…” She neared it with her hand on her hips. “That is… a lovely painting.”

“A gift from the king,” You stated plainly. “I did not know of your arrival.”

“You wouldn’t.” Your father grumbled as he lingered across the room. “Given your… sojourn.”

“When I left, I did not expect to return to such a mess,” Your mother turned back to you. “I see a different wardrobe but not a different girl.” She crossed to touch the chain at your waist. “Even so, much has changed.”

“Alice?” You ventured.

“The babe is still too young to travel,” She rescinded her hand. “It will be some time yet, but they are both happy and healthy. I did come as soon as the snow cleared. A pity I did miss the trial… I rather liked the old queen.”

“Pretender,” Your father snarled.

“Regardless, Willis, she was a princess still,” Your mother chided over her shoulder. “And I suppose you mean to take her place.” She looked to you and you averted your eyes guiltily. 

“Suppose it should happen whether I mean it or not.”

“It is the manner of betrothals.” Your mother comforted as she took your arm and led you to the couch. She sat and pulled you down with her. “We’ve waited so long, dear.”

“I did expect the convent.” Your father remarked.

“Oh Willis, do cease with your vile tongue,” Your mother remanded before once more turning her attention upon you. “I see he’s not changed.”

“I’ve missed you,” You said. “Really, I did.”

"I know you're young, girl, but I know you didn't think I'd miss my own daughter's wedding." She took your hand in hers. "Oh, if the king hadn't been so pious in my time I don't think I'd have your resolve."

"Do have some restraint." Your father reproached.

"Do not act as if you did not encourage her," Your mother countered. "You must've been chomping at the bit when the king set his eye on her."

"Unlike our foolish daughter," He scowled. "You've inspired in her a dangerous will."

"Did you only come to spread your black cloud over us?" Your mother accused. 

"I am most joyous at the reunion, dear, but it might not have been." He slithered. "She is fortunate she remains in the king's favour."

"And you are fortunate to be the fool who calls himself her father." Your mother was always quick to mirror his venom. "Oh, dear," She smiled at you, "I hear you've not had your fitting yet. All the better for I'll not have those gaudy royal tailors sewing your train."

"Mother? You'll sew my dress? Will you have enough time?" You squeezed her hand. 

"They'll have to wrestle the needle from my hand to stop me." She trilled. "And your uncle has offered to subsidize the dowry. Your father and I are still recovering from your sister's and a king does prove more hefty than a duke."

"The king did offer to waive it." Your father said.

"For a man who values his pride so, you are quick to sell it for a coin." She scoffed. "Oh I do hope you've not been listening to him." 

You chuckled softly and lowered your lashes. "You know I've never been very skilled at that."

"As I figured. I doubt we'd be at such an advantage if you had." She winked at you and you hid your snicker. "Husband, if you did come only to berate our daughter I should think you might be more productive elsewhere."

"I did come to extend an invitation," He retorted. "From the king. We have been asked to attend the royal table tonight."

"Oh, very well, so we should accept," She waved him off like a gnat. "Now, do I have you're leave to see to my daughter after such a lengthy absence? I should think I've had more than enough time to reacquaint myself with you, husband."

"Very well," Your father sulked. "But you carry on like this and our daughter shall be a poor wife indeed."

"I carry on like this and I shall enjoy my years to come." She snorted. "Now Willis, do go coddle those lords in council. They do appreciate your pandering more than us."

Your father sneered but said nothing more. Your mother watched him go and the maid eyed her with a measure of disapproval. The doors closed loudly in his stead.

"Now, all you write to me of is needlework," She turned back to you, "And I must hear of your royal escapades from your father, a poor narrator, and from distant whispers of court."

"I truly did not it would get this far," You confessed. Your smile fell as the shine of her unexpected appearance faded away. "I… mother, I fear I might be ungrateful. Cowardly, even. Selfish, surely."

"I know you. I know you didn't want the queen dead. However did you stumble into this?" 

She looked into your eyes and you could’ve cried because she didn’t look at you as a machinator or a tool or anything than what you were. She looked at you as a mother upon her daughter; the concern creased her plump face and aged her. You breathed deeply and leaned back on the couch.

“I don’t know,” You said. “I don’t… know. It’s happened all so quickly and I thought I could outrun it all. I thought… Why, mother, look at me. I never thought the king’s interest should last more than a week. That he would quickly move onto the next lady.”

“But he didn’t,” She ruminated. “I suspect he’s rarely been denied a thing in his life and we’ve all just witnessed how far he’ll go to get what he desires.”

You hung your head. “Do you think I am foolish for not loving him back? Not truly?”

“I don’t think that at all.” She said. “My girl, I think you’d be more foolish to love him back, but even I can see you’ve got to find a way to tolerate him if you don’t.” You nodded weakly as your eyes stung. “He’s handsome, surely, and from what I’ve heard, he does shower you with kindness. Why, look at these chambers.” She sighed. “I know these things do not mean love but you must do as any woman must in a marriage. You must find a way to bear it.”

You lifted your head as you searched her. “And when he bears me no longer?”

“Do not let him tire of you,” She urged. “Why, if I can bear your father as I do, you can bear the king. Your father does act as if he detests me but he does also come to me when he cannot decipher his courtly troubles. Make yourself useful in whatever way you can and they will endure the rest.”

You chewed your lip as you weighed her words. It was no different than what you’d heard before from Rose, Barnes, your own father. You were truly trapped. There was no horse fast enough to take you away from here or any prayer loud enough to evoke a miracle. This was it. Your life. Your lot. Your fate.

👑

The king hosted the dinner in his receiving chamber. A large trestle was set up in the place of his usual small table and his desk was shoved aside. You were the first to arrive; your guard escorted you as Hugh bid you come.

Steven waited within his chambers as servants set the table for the evening meal. He welcomed you with a kiss on your hand and lecherous eyes. You could only think of the day before. The stickiness along your chest. You were repulsed by the memory.

"I have heard your mother arrived at last. I think it only fitting we bring our families together." He explained as he clung to your hand. "We will be one soon enough."

"Your highness." You agreed. He looked at you sharply and you quickly corrected yourself. "My king."

He smiled and turned once more to watch the servants at their work. "A spring wedding. The season of rebirth. Fitting, isn't it?" He mused.

"Yes, my king," You agreed as you let him pull you around the room. "Very."

"A marriage in the spring is a good omen." He continued. "My last wedding was in the winter. Hideous affair." He stopped at the head of the table and looked over it. "Though I care little for the ceremony," He turned to you and leaned in to whisper. "I'm more eager for the wedding night."

You smiled and nodded. You licked your lips nervously and his eyes followed your tongue. He hummed hungrily. 

He was drawn from his fixation by a sudden disturbance. The doors were already open to allow the servants to pass in and out. A deep feminine voice neared from down the hall and soon filled the doorway. 

You looked up to the grey-haired woman with wisps of gold still laced through her strands. She entered with two maids in brown upon her tail. Her rich azure skirts stirred like a storm as she stopped before the long trestle.

"My son," She greeted the king as her decisive eyes found him. You were quick to bow as you recognized the dowager, Sarah. "I am weary of travelling and now you send to me to sup when I could as easily dine on my own and see to you in the morning."

"Mother, it is only a hour's ride to Charmal." His tone mirrored her own exasperation. "I did offer to attend you there."

"The castle is much too small for your court. A den of liars and fools." She ranted. "I never did like being the queen." She quieted suddenly and her eyes fell upon you, frozen in your abeyance. "Is this the one?"

"Yes, mother, this is--"

"Oh yes, I've heard of her." Sarah waved you up with two fingers as she neared. "They said she was plain but I didn't expect this." You blinked at her as she stood before you. "Though she is not entirely unattractive."

"She is beautiful," Steven insisted as he crossed his arms. 

"Ugh, you always were the romantic," She shook her head. "No doubt the reason Eleanor met her end, not that she was very pleasant to be around at all."

"Your highness, it is a pleasure to meet you," You offered.

"People say that often but how can they know so soon?" She pondered dryly. "Oh, girl, I do see it in your eye. You're quite irritated by me."

"I wouldn't say that," You replied cautiously as you glanced at Steven. "Merely surprised. Unprepared for our introduction."

"Do not worry about my son or propriety and speak to me straight," She demanded. "You seek to be the new queen?"

"Our betrothal would have it as such though I never sought it out." You said evenly.

"Oh, you did not?" She narrowed her eyes. "And why would any lady not dream of a crown?"

"Because it is more than a crown. Because it entails a heavy burden, a plethora of responsibilities which can never be entirely fulfilled, an obligation of one's whole person which would have the lives of others upon the same brow that wears the gold." The words steamed out and you stopped yourself with a hand to your chest and gulped. She was truly rousing in the worst way. "My apologies, I do ramble--"

She scoffed. "You are honest. And smart. I'd not give anything to have the crown back. Well perhaps I would abide it if it meant my husband should rise from his grave but even then, I do doubt my willingness to wear it."

You were silent as she stared at you. She considered you a moment before she retreated. She walked around the table and examined the cutlery.

"You will hate it. You should know that now. The last queen would tell you as much if her head was still in tact." She said wryly.

"Mother." Steven warned.

"Son." She countered curtly. "I won't lie to the girl. She's young, she's likely been lied to enough." She looked to you again. "This is more than a wedding. More than a marriage. This is everything. A country; a people; life. You will hold more than your own well-being in your hand, you will hold the world."

"Your highness." You nodded thoughtfully.

"And this one," She pointed to Steven. "As much a boy as the one I taught to walk. Impetuous, indulgent, and impulsive."

Steven exhaled loudly as he paced opposite his mother. He was almost growling as he kept his arms crossed and glared at the floor.

"But he is king and if I tell him not to marry you he will be ever more intent on it and so I wish you good luck in this catastrophe." She looked down her nose and straightened a fork. "I shall remain for supper but do not expect me to break fast with you, son. I am too old for all this courtly absurdity."

"Do as you wish, mother," Steven grumbled as he approached his mother to pull out her chair. 

"I think I shall," She smirked and sat. "I'll have some wine first. The girl too. She looks like she's in need of a cup."

"They'll serve the wine with the food." Steven huffed.

"I know they will but I am thirsty now," She leaned back and looked like the queen she'd been years ago. "Sit, girl." She ordered as she waved to the chair next to her. 

You sat as Steven beckoned to a servant and called for wine. The dowager tapped her fingers on the arm of her chair. "So you’re the fawn who fell the great lioness from her pride."

"I did not… I…" You peeled at Steven as he hovered around his own chair and watched. "She did sow her own fate."

"So she did but she was weaving it for quite a long time." She remarked. "I do wonder at the snag that unraveled her."

"I did not wish her harm as I've never wished any harm." You said. "I only wished to be as I was. Insignificant and uninvolved."

"This is court, girl. That is impossible." She snickered.

"So I've discovered. So I shall surely continue to discover." You frowned. "What should I say? You want my honesty but you think you already know the truth. What has happened, has happened. I had my role in it though it did not unfold as I intended. 

"A woman has died and I live to take her place. I am a villain no doubt in many minds, in my own even; yours too, it seems." You bemoaned. "Perhaps I should accept that and cherish it. Nurture it until I grow as sinister as you would have me. I'd surely be better off if I did."

She arched a brow and looked between you and her son. You sensed Steven's gaze upon you. "Perhaps you should." She said. "A queen cannot afford to be good, only merciful, and mercy cannot exist without a degree of cruelty."

Silence permeated the chamber. Steven cleared his throat and pulled out his chair. He sat heavily and gripped the arms of his chair. 

"Mother, I expect you will cease the theatrics for our other guests." He muttered. "Or you should have your wish of a night alone."

The tension thickened as mother and son glared across the table. Your mouth was dry and your chest threatened to burst. You pressed yourself to the back of your chair and willed yourself into the void. The queen laughed and a servant appeared with a bottle of wine. She raised her glass to the maid and then reached for yours.

"Drink up," She said. "It'll soon be your best habit."


	24. Chapter 24

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This Chapter: The reader prepares for her wedding.
> 
> Warnings: dark elements
> 
> This is dark!(king)Steve and explicit. 18+ only.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alright, so I managed another chapter. I’m working an awful shift that gives me no time before or after and it’s all so depressing. That being said, I think we all sense cummies in our near future as we get closer and closer to the thottening. Anyways. Enjoy. :)
> 
> <3 Let me know what you think with a comment or reply! Love ya!

You were halfway through your glass of wine before the next guests arrived. Your mother’s voice floated in from the corridor as you tried to hide in your cup from both the king and his dowager mother. You looked up as Steve lifted his head too and Sarah lifted a brow in mild interest.

“Oh, you’re rather strapping, aren’t you, sir?” Your mother trilled with a bawdy laugh.

“I suppose,” Lord Barnes’ returned and you had to resist a chuckle of your own. You kept your face straight as you listened patiently. “You must be Lady Malford.”

“I must be,” She affirmed. “Lord Barnes, was it? I recognize you. You did imbibe at the harvest a few years past and found yourself under the table and nearly up my own skirts.”

“It was not intentional, if you would believe it,” He countered dully. “A regrettable night.”

“I should hope not. The best nights are spent with liquor warm in one’s stomach,” She chimed.

“After you, my lady,” Barnes diverted her. “My lord.”

“Lord Barnes,” Your father said evenly. 

Hugh appeared in the doorway at once and entered. He stopped short and spoke with his eyes to the ceiling. “Lord Willis and Lady Elizabeth have arrived, your highness,” He announced. “And the Lord James Barnes.”

“Thank you, Hugh,” Steven pushed himself to his feet and you rose in kind. Your mother was the first to enter with your father close behind.

“Lady Elizabeth.” Hugh introduced your mother. “Lord Willis,” Your father stood beside your mother as they bowed to the king, “And Lord Barnes.” The third stepped forward and bent in kind.

“I do prefer--” Your mother began as she straightened.

“Bessie,” The dowager’s voice rose above hers. “I should have guessed.”

“Your highness,” Your mother greeted Sarah genially. “I was not informed you’d be attending.”

“I thought this mouse was some distant niece of yours, a cousin even,” You looked to the royal widow; she was almost smiling. “Though with a tongue so candid, I cannot say I’m surprised. She does lack your humour, alas.”

“Oh, she merely hoards it,” Your mother returned.

“She must get that from her father then,” Sarah chided. “Do come sit. I think you should keep me from nodding off through this dinner.”

“I cannot promise I won’t,” You mother approached as the old queen beckoned her forth. 

“Time has seen you well,” Sarah said. “Pardon me, lady,” She turned to you, “Would you offer your seat to your mother? My son does have another shoulder you can sit upon.”

“Certainly,” You assured her and rounded to the other side as your mother took your place. 

“Bess, you old cow, you do seem as well-fed as ever,” Sarah sat and pulled your mother down with her.

“And you do seem as decrepit as your soul,” Your mother cackled. “I daresay, I do cling to my youth yet. Does the grave call to you, hmm? Does the descent seem less perilous?”

“The prospect of rest has never frightened me. Truthfully, it does seem a comforting fate,” Sarah laughed softly under her breath. “I see you are still latched onto Willis the Weasel.”

“We do have quite a cozy little burrow between us,” Your mother boomed as you father scowled and sat at her other side. “A few kits of our own.”

“I only ever had the one but he is more a snake. No surprise he does choose to feast on a mouse.” She remarked.

“She looks a mouse, but she’s a fierce beast indeed,” Your mother assured. “Why, I was sure by now you’d gone to stay with your husband.”

“Not just yet,” Sarah said. “Merely his former abode. A castle most quaint… and quiet. No doubt a relief from this den of fools.”

“Surely, but how bored we should be without fools to entertain us,” Sarah poured your mother a goblet of wine and you looked across at them astounded. 

You’d known your mother to have been at court as a youth but she never mentioned such a kinship to the queen. The two of them were enlivened by their former acquaintance and you were stunned to find the dowager almost giddy. Her son looked just as surprised. The women leaned in as they lowered their voices and began to titter over their rims.

“Hugh,” Steven motioned to the footman, “You may call for the food. We’re ready to begin.”

The servant nodded and marched off to his task. The king sat back and held his chin in his hand as he watched the ladies laugh quietly. Slowly his eyes strayed and found you watching him. The wrinkles left his forehead as he smiled and sat up. He leaned on the arm of the chair and towards you.

“My love,” He whispered. “You handled her as well as any can. Even me.”

You nodded and lowered your lashes. “Thank you.”

“Perhaps your mother can soften her yet,” He said. “But she does not hate you entirely. It is only her way.”

“I shall be patient.” You replied softly.

“As I will be,” He countered with a smirk, “As I have been.“

👑 

Your mother insisted on silk the colour of rose petals. She said it made you glow though you felt little more than an impostor. The first fitting had been near disastrous but the second was reassuring. This one was stressful. 

In a week, you'd be taken away to the castle of Heron's Ford. There you would spend the fortnight preceding the wedding in isolation with your mother and your maids. The tradition offered a brief respite before you were to face the inevitable but in your mind, it was barely long enough.

You stood before the long mirror as your mother placed pins to mark the last of her adjustments. Along the neckline, she'd woven silver and magenta ribbons over the bodice. The shoulders were wide set and displayed your collarbone without seeming risque. The sleeves were fitted to your wrists and slitted with white satin. The skirts were full and the same silver ribbons trimmed the hem.

You inhaled deeply and sighed. Your mother looked up from her work and stood straight.

"Dear… what is it that troubles you so?" She asked.

"Oh mother, you are braver than me for I feel a terrible dread." You mourned. "I have felt it since… since the last queen was marched to her death."

Your mother frowned and set aside the pins. "We all do. Ladies, that is. To think a queen could be cast aside so easily but… it does embolden us to think an earl's daughter can be raised all the same."

"I know I'm fortunate but I do not feel it." You lamented. "I know little of being a queen, I was a poor enough lady."

"You will learn because you must," Your mother said. "And there is one thing that should secure you against the fate of the queen."

"Which is?" You wondered.

"An heir. If you can bear a child, or more, you will not need to fear." Your mother touched your sleeve kindly. "I never struggled to conceive though I did bear only daughters and your sister quickened almost upon her wedding night."

"And if I cannot?"

"You mustn't think of that now," Your mother said. "You must cling to hope until it is extinguished."

"I fear I've not had hope since I was a girl." You admitted. "I have ever disappointed father and I do think my husband shall one day be as cruel to me as he is."

"My girl, you are… blind. I see the king and how he dotes on you. He abides more of you than any. I see that he does long for you deeply and while I cannot promise his faithfulness I do see his persistence." She mulled. "Why, you only need tend your wifely duties and I think he should be pleased."

"And if I cannot?"

She frowned. "Well, a wife's ability barely matters for a husband should perform his duty either way."

You hung your head. "I am trying." You uttered. "But I cannot accept it though I know it is not up to me." You turned from her and tried not to loosen the pins. "This crown shall ensure the hate I've sown among the court. I know it."

"Dear, you do have too little esteem in yourself," She chided. "These people do not hate you. They fear the king and his impulses. They have seen the unbelievable and they do appease the king's wrath. They see a girl like a fawn; terrified but caught in a hunter's snare."

"Is that what they see?"

"They should. And if they do not see that, they see the blood of a queen upon their hands and that they do fear that theirs could just as easily be spilled." Your mother came up beside you. 

"You are not Eleanor, you are not trained to be queen. And you are surely not Sarah. But you are you. You are kind and you are sweet. Those are as much strengths as any." Your mother turned you to face her and cradled your face in her hands. "You are strong for you have remained resilient through all this."

"But I am scared." You breathed.

"That, my girl, is human. We are all afraid." She said. "Even me. Even your father. Even the king."

You stared at your mother and she drew you into an embrace. "I love you, mother."

"I love you too, dear," She cooed. "My queen."

"Mother," You pulled away from her and she grinned.

"I must practice." She said. "It'll take some getting used to but I think I can manage. Oh! Imagine your father. How he should hate to say it."

You shook your head and giggled. "Then I shall make him call me nothing else."

There was a knock at the door. You had dismissed Rita as you'd quickly tired of her silence after breaking your fast that morning. You crossed to the doors carefully and opened the left one. Your mother watched from behind as she grabbed her pins once more.

"Lord Barnes," You greeted him in surprise.

"My lady," He returned. "I come bearing a gift from the king."

"Why, my lord, thank you," You replied. "A valiant messenger indeed."

"It is for your wedding, I understand," He said dully. "I see you are already of the mind for preparations."

"Do invite him in, daughter," Your mother called. "I never turn away such a handsome caller."

"Mother," You reproached as you looked over your shoulder.

"We should need a second opinion," She added. "Even a man's."

"I should be on my way. The council does gather." Barnes intoned.

"It will not take very long," She insisted. "Only if you should continue to delay."

"Very well," He relented and you shuffled backwards to let him through.

He closed the door behind him and you turned back to approach your mother. You stood before the mirror as she placed another pin. "Now, Lord Barnes, do you think I should add another ornament along her bodice?"

He squinted and clung to the box in his hands. He stared at you in the mirror and shrugged. "My lady, I am not one for fashion but I do think she looks fine indeed." He replied. "And I do offer another ornament already."

"Ah yes," Your mother nodded, "Let us see this newest bauble."

He removed the lid from the box and held it out. A thin silver coronet with pearls along it sat upon a cushion. "The king did say it is merely a placeholder until the coronation," He explained. 

"A rather extravagant placeholder," Your mother took the coronet and lifted it as she turned to you. She lowered it onto your brow and stepped back. "Beautiful." 

"Indeed," Barnes agreed. "I think I prefer the simplicity." 

"As you would," You snorted. 

Your mother tilted her head as she looked between you and Barnes but said nothing.

"This court would distort the merest turn of phrase and the simplest stitch of thread," Barnes countered. "I do not think it unnatural to long for the simple."

"If one should abide the court, they must bide its nuisances," You challenged. "There is but one escape from such."

"Surely, we do abide," He said firmly. "As painful as it should prove."

Your nostrils flared as you met his gaze at last. He finally looked away from the mirror as he turned to you directly. You glared at him as his brow crinkled. You set your jaw as you sneered at him.

"I thank you, Lord Barnes, for delivering this gift." You reached to touch the coronet. "I shall be a beaming bride indeed."

"So you will," He nodded curtly.

"You may tell the king I thank him," You said stiffly as you lowered your hand and grasped your skirts tightly. "That I do look forward to our union most… eagerly."

"As you wish…" He bowed and slowly backed away, "My lady."

"My lord," You said all too sharply as he retreated to the door. "We should hate to keep you from council."

"I should be in time, I think," He contended. "Good day, ladies."

"And you, Lord Barnes." Your mother answered as you returned your attention to your reflection. 

The door opened and closed again. A silence pervaded the chamber as your mother watched you in the mirror. You avoided her gaze as you pretended to adjust the coronet. 

"You are mad at him." She mused.

"No." You lied.

She scoffed and crossed her arms. "Don't play coy with me, girl. I suspect if I hadn't been here, he might not have been spared a strike across his cheek."

"If you were not here, he'd not have been permitted in my chambers." You declared.

"You doubt your potential, my dear, yet you sound a queen to me already." She snickered.

"He does not bother me," You insisted. "He is but the king's man. I tolerate him."

Your mother's smile fell. Her eyes found yours in the mirror and she quirked her head. She dropped her arms and her hands went to her hips.

"Oh, dear," She said though you could not figure if she referred to you or expressed the concern which wrinkled her forehead. "Do not let that boy affect you so."

"He does not." You retorted.

"He does so," She argued. "Oh, no no no. I do like your head as it is and not only for that pretty gift the king has sent you."

"Mother," You huffed.

"Daughter," She mocked. "Do not think others will not see as I do. That man is more than the king's man. You encourage him this and he shall want to be yours."

"That's silly. He is loyal to his master. He has done his bidding, delivered his gifts, delivered me." You spat. "He is beholden but certainly not to _me_."

"The heart _is_ silly," She grabbed your arm as she stepped before you and looked you in the face. "And you should know it is hardly restrained by decorum."

You stared back at her then looked to the door. You surely didn't care so much for Barnes. You couldn't, he was the king's friend and you were the king's betrothed. It could not be. _So then why were you so mad at him? And why did it hurt so much?_


	25. Chapter 25

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This Chapter: The wedding day arrives.
> 
> Warnings: dark elements, dubcon (oral)
> 
> This is dark!(king)Steve and explicit. 18+ only.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, okay. It’s the wedding and I know y’all are thirsty wenches. I’m gonna keep writing however I want in this series because you know what, it’s fun and whatever happens happens. This is an adventure and we’re taking it. So without further ado.
> 
> <3 Let me know what you think with a comment! Love ya!

The two weeks spent at Heron's Ford were both the longest and shortest of your life. You were reluctant to leave behind the crystal lake and the wading birds for which the castle was named. With your mother as your only companion, you whiled away the days and nights in a tenuous state of anxiety. The days ticked off until your inevitable doom.

Two nights before your return to the capital, a physician arrived to examine you. The ritual was sterile and awkward. He knelt between your legs and scribbled upon a parchment thereafter. Your mother saw him off and returned to comfort you. It was over and better that it was.

You arrived at the royal abode the night before the wedding. You were spirited into the Fort where every queen had spent the eve of the marriage. Both Sarah and Eleanor had done so, though your mind lingered on the latter. She had returned the Fort in a vicious twist and she left it without her head.

Your mother asked if you should like to walk the grounds but you remained in your chamber for fear of stumbling upon the green. You could think of nothing but the blood dripping into the grass; the queen’s head upon the frozen ground. The memory kept you awake. You expected many brides spent the night restless but likely upon much different woes.

You rose before the sun. Your mother had little trouble sleeping upon your shared mattress and you did not disturb her as you stood and crossed to the vanity. You sat and looked into the square mirror. The darkness cast shadows across your face, an eerie line along your throat that had your hand reaching for it.

“Dear,” Your mother’s voice was thick with sleep. You saw her sit up behind your reflection and shimmy across the bed. “Is it time already?”

“The sun will be upon us soon,” You answered as you turned away from the mirror. “We should send for water.”

“And food.” Your mother suggested.

“I have little appetite,” You said as you touched your stomach. 

“Even so, you should eat. It will be a long day.” She advised as she rose and searched for her robe along the far wall. “My dear, do not trouble yourself so. It will go to plan.”

You hung your head and didn’t tell her how little you cared of whether it went to plan. Of the real troubles that stirred within. You nodded and stood to fetch your own robe and wrapped yourself up in it as you neared the window. The tower faced the castle and you looked down upon the spring dew through the fog. The sun would clear the mist though the light could offer little guidance.

👑

You were taken to the See at the centre of the city in a covered carriage. The streets were full of people enraptured by the festivities. A year before, none had expected to witness a royal wedding so soon; if at all in their lives. You glanced out the slit of the window shade as your leg shook uncontrollably beneath your skirts.

You were alone. Your mother had left you as you were led into the carriage. She would reach the See before you and join those gathered for the occasion. The voices without were raucous and filled your chest with sparks. The common folk cared little for courtly drama but were most agreed to the tables provided by the king in tents along the streets. Platters and cups would be sated on the royal coppers.

When at last the wheels ground to a halt, you waited in the vehicle and pulled the thin veil over your face. The thin coronet held it in place as you listened for the signal to emerge. A gentle tape came and the door opened. You stood and bent through the low door as a step was set out for you. You were offered a hand from a servant and took it as your vision was shrouded by your headdress.

The cobbled walkway that led to the holy edifice was lined with onlookers. Guards held them back as they reached to touch your silken skirts and grab at your veil. You carried on if only to avoid their grasp. The tall doors were open atop the wide stairs and you ascended with the help of the servant, several others tended to your skirts and kept them from snagging. 

At the top of the steps, the crowd within added to the buzz of voices. A sudden burst of horns echoed along the tall ceilings and were mimicked by those without, announcing the arrival of the bride. The guests quieted and the high vaults were deathly and still. You peered down the aisle between the rows of people and your eyes found the distant figure at the front of the hall.

The king stood in beside the bishop. His golden brocade contrasted the dark smock of the minister sharply. You gulped as the servant wrestled his hand from yours. You were left to stand upon your own and it felt as if time had stopped. The horns were joined by the plucking of harps. For a moment, you didn’t move as you forgot to breathe.

At last, you took your first step forward. The second one was heavier, and the third. And then it became habit. On foot in front of the other as you waded through the sea of skirts and doubt. You kept your head forward, afraid that if you saw a familiar face you might turn back to hide.

As you reached the altar, another servant stepped forward and helped you up onto the low platform. You braced yourself before you proceed to the men stood patiently at the centre. The bishop was a thin man with thick black hair and a crooked nose. His long fingers were woven together across his front. The king looked younger and for a moment, unfamiliar. He had shaved his thick beard and resembled the old portrait that had formerly hung over your hearth. You gasped quietly.

You turned to face your betrothed as the bishop nodded to both of you. The music faded and the paralyzing silence returned. You folded one hand over the other and held your head up as best you could. The coronet felt heavier than before. The veil seemed thinner and you felt entirely bare.

The bishop cleared his throat and began.

“Dearly beloved, we are gathered together here in the sight of the lord to join together this Man and this Woman in sacred matrimony; which is an honourable estate, instituted of our creator, and into which holy estate these two persons present come now to be joined. Therefore if any man can shew any just cause, why they may not lawfully be joined together, let him now speak, or else hereafter forever hold his peace.”

The bishop paused and looked around the room. Skirts ruffled and benches creaked but no voice rose. No protest was spoken.

“I require and charge you both that if either of you know any impediment, why you may not be lawfully joined together that you confess it. For those who shall be coupled together otherwise than by the lord’s word are not joined together by Him; neither is their union lawful.”

The bishop paused again, this time for effect. He peered between you again before he focused on the king.

“Will you have this woman to be thy wedded wife, to live together after the lord’s ordinance in the holy estate of marriage? Will you love her, comfort her, honour, and keep her, in sickness and in health; and forsaking all other, keep thee only unto her, so long as you shall live?”

Steven stood straighter as your eyes widened. You were thankful for the shield of your headdress. He spoke loudly and his voice bounced from the rafters. “I will. With all my being, I swear it.”

The bishop turned then to you.

“Will you have this man to be thy wedded husband, to live together after the lord’s ordinance in the holy estate of marriage? Will you obey him, and serve him, love, honour, and keep him in sickness and in health; and, forsaking all other, keep thee only unto him, so long as you shall live?”

Your legs wobbled but you kept yourself upright. You inhaled deeply and forced your voice from the depth of your stomach. You dug your nails into your other hand and declared, “I will.”

“And do you,” The bishop looked to Steven, “Present your ring to this woman as a symbol of your devotion; of your loyalty; of your love?”

“I do,” Steven replied as he reached into his jacket and pulled forth a golden band with a sapphire upon its face. He held out his hand as you tore yours apart and forced your palm against his. You wondered if he could feel you quaking as he slipped the ring onto your finger.

“And do you,” The bishop turned again. “Present your ring to this man as a symbol of your devotion; of your loyalty; of your love?”

“I…” You fumbled in the pocket sewn along your belt and fished the thick golden band from within. Along the inside was inscribed the words, _my king._ “Do.” Steven turned his hand so that you could place the ring on his thick finger. When you finished, he grabbed your hand and held it firmly as the bishop proceeded. 

“We call upon the blessing of the creator, that this marriage shall be fruitful, peaceful, and loving. We thank the lord for this union and that it should come to be. We do ordain this marriage as holy and binding before his eye and upon his word. I do declare, by his decree, this marriage to be true and legal. To be sacred and unbreakable. Praise.”

“Praise,” The crowd returned in unison and your lips barely moved as you stood with your hand in the king’s vice-like fingers.

“King Steven, I do call upon you to present this woman as your new wife.” The bishop said. “To unveil her to these witnesses and the world as your one and consecrated only.”

“Thank you, your holiness,” The king released you and turned to you. 

He smiled as he reached to the hem of your veil and lifted it slowly but determinedly. As he uncovered your face, you forced a smile of your own. You felt as if you would choke. He let the thin fabric fall back over your hair and took your hand once more. He pulled you to face the crowd with him.

“I do declare you to be husband and wife,” The bishop called as the king raised your hand in his. “May your lives together be most blessed.”

The crowd erupted in cheers as you stood in shock. You could barely believe it had happened so swiftly. Your eyes searched the room but with the king’s hand upon yours, there was no escape to be had. Your mother dabbed away tears as she clung to your father and the dowager watched with her implacable gaze. Lord Barnes didn’t look and examined the ceiling instead.

Steven lowered your hand and leaned down to speak in your ear. You could barely hear him above the din. “My wife,” He preened. “All mine.”

👑

You barely recalled your walk back down the aisle. You felt detached; as if the person you were when you arrived remained at the altar. If it hadn’t been for the king dragging you from the See, you suspected you would have stayed there for as long as you could. The streets were lively yet and the guards struggled to keep your path clear. The carriage door shielded you from the droves.

Steven fell against the seat and pulled you down beside him. He removed his crown and set it aside with a sigh. You exhaled and let your shoulders droop as you leaned your head back. His hand clung to yours as your skin stung with shock. _This couldn’t be. It was a dream. A nightmare._

His fingers moved as he loosened his grip. He caressed the back of your hand and touched your pale skirts. He played with the fabric as you lifted your head to look at him. He turned and leaned in as he bent to kiss you. The carriage jolted and the horses hooves set off down the road.

“My wife,” He drew away. “My wife, my wife…” He repeated over and over. “And I am your husband,” He cradled your face with his hand. “Say it.”

“My husband,” You uttered as he dragged his thumb below your lips. 

“Our union has been blessed and we are ordained.” His hand fell and glossed over your chest. You went rigid as he continued his path and bunched you skirts in his hand. “It is our duty as husband and wife to consummate our marriage.”

“My king, should we not...wait?” You gulped.

“We’ve waited a very long time already,” He purred as he rubbed his nose against your temple and continued to tug your skirts upward. “A very.” His hand pushed beneath the silk and struggled with your shift. “Very,” He slipped past the bottom layer and tickled your thigh, “Long,” He crawled along your skin and you closed your legs around his hand. “Time.”

“We have the feast,” You squeezed his hand between your thighs as he wiggled it. “We are not far from the castle.”

“The people can wait upon us,” He insisted as he dug his nails into your flesh and you were forced to part your legs. “A taste…” He sat back and slid off the seat onto his knees. “That’s all.” He moved in front of you and his fingers grazed your most sensitive part as his other hand gripped your knee. “Did you not vow to be obedient?”

“I did, I did,” You flinched as he pressed deeper and his fingertip sent a spark through you. He repeated the motion as he flicked the bud nestled there. You squeaked as he held his finger firm and toyed with you.

“And I did vow to comfort you.” He grinned as he pushed between your legs. “And so I shall.”

His eyes drifted down and watched his hand. You couldn’t bear to follow his gaze as the warmth seeped from his touch. He bent his head and you watched his golden hair as he leaned in. You were mortified as you felt his warm breath along your vee and his finger grazed along your folds.

His tongue met your clit as it resumed the work of his finger. He spread his hand over his thigh as his other went over your dress and held your hip. Your breath hitched as he worked his tongue and his lips circled your bud as he suckled at it. He varied between the two; lapping and sucking as the tendrils coiled around you.

You planted your hands on the seat as you tried to withhold the moans that filled your chest. You’d never felt anything so peculiar. Anything so tingly. So wonderful. It chased away the dread that clouded your mind and you forgot that the man between your thighs was the same who created the storm.

Your legs bent as you pointed your toes in your slippers. You didn’t think as you arched your back. You could not censor the mewls that rose from you and interrupted the sloppy sound of his tongue. You gulped at the air that whisked from your lungs faster and faster and your voice could not be stifled.

He reached up and took your hand from the seat. He pulled it blindly to the back of his head and pressed it there. He hummed as he buried himself deeper and pushed his tongue down along your folds before flitting it back up. You closed your eyes as you felt every muscle tense in longing; for more, for him. 

You didn’t know what he was doing but he must’ve been doing it right. You couldn’t deny that you liked it. You couldn’t say you wanted him to stop. You wanted him to carry on forever. Your fingers molded to the shape of his crown as you urged him on. You murmured hazily as your head lolled back and forth.

You were panting madly. Like an animal. You knew, beneath the fog, that you should be ashamed but it felt too good to be ashamed. He brought your legs up over his shoulders as he tilted your pelvis against him. You held him between your knees as your other hand found his head and you kneaded his golden hair.

You babbled as your blood boiled over and your body seized in sheer pleasure. His tongue swirled around and around. All restraint was lost. Every bond, every rule, every little barrier fell away and you were free. Your voice piqued as your body did too and you writhed against the king.

You’d never felt anything so delightful. So raw. So delicious. If this was sin, it was worth the eternal cost. He did not stop until you were breathless. Until the strength left you entirely and your hands slipped away from his head and your legs hung limply over him.

Slowly, he raised his head and looked up at you. His lips shone as he smirked and ran his finger along your delicate bud. You were delirious. It had been but a lapse in your sanity as the glow faded. You looked down at your stockinged legs; exposed and trembling.

The king climbed up next to you and pulled your skirts down to cover you. To replace the modesty you’d so easily forgotten. You closed your eyes and turned away from him. He caught your chin and pulled you back to face him. He pushed his lips to yours and shoved his tongue in your mouth. He tasted sweeter than before.

“Oh, we will wait,” He pulled away and wiped his mouth with his sleeve. “Though I do not think I will be the one so impatient.”


	26. Chapter 26

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This Chapter: The wedding day comes to and end.
> 
> Warnings: dark elements, dub/noncon (cummies!)
> 
> This is dark!(king)Steve and explicit. 18+ only.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wedding night = wedding cummies. I have nothing else to say.
> 
> <3 Let me know what you think with a comment! Love ya!

You’d never pondered much on the concept of time. It loomed in your mind as it did any person. Foreboding and inevitable. One day it would pass you by and you would succumb to it as all did. But you’d never thought of it so deeply because it had never come to such a defining and startling stop.

You hung from the precipice as you stood before the tall doors. They were closed but the din of voices came clear through the studded wood. Beside you was the man who had strung up your world so definitely. And as you looked at him you saw the toll of time; the fresh bloom of life, the frightful promise of death, the slow and crippling march of mortality. The crushing hand of fate was his; decorated with gold and gems.

He turned his head and you winced at the movement. You looked to him in turn and he smiled down at you. To any other, it was a kind smile; to you, it was vulgar and knowing. He had so easily disassembled you in the carriage and he could do it again. He would. And he anticipated it gleefully, like a child on Yuletide.

He took your hand and held it in his. His fingertip rubbed the sapphire he’d guilded you with. He looked ahead and inhaled deeply. His chest puffed out as he nodded to the servants on either side of the doors. You stood as straight as you could. You were a queen now, or at least married to the king. Once the coronation was past, the title would be true, but you were as good as. 

_How did Eleanor ever do it?_

The doors opened slowly and the voices within died slowly. Another blast of horns that was becoming all too familiar and distressing. _Was this to be your entrance to every occasion? Were you to be met with the eyes of every other person whenever you passed through a doorway?_

You didn’t move until you felt him tug you forward. You knew it would be a poor impression to be dragged into your own wedding feast. You let him guide you into the hall as the guests stood at their tables and quieted entirely. They bowed as the king waved to them and squeezed your hand. You mimicked him and did your best to keep your lips curved.

He led you up to the dais above the tables along the front of the hall. Two chairs; one for each of you as you sat above the rest. Your parents, his mother, Lord Barnes, his council and their respective wives, all sat along the nearest tables. Lady Diana and Mabel had returned to their former esteem; tails between their legs as their confessions secured their lives, though they were not without stain. It was a pauper’s court indeed.

Steven made a show of lifting your hand to his lips and kissing it before he turned back to the people. He cleared his throat. “We thank you all for attending our wedding and we do hope that this feast does mark the beginning of an equally fruitful and fulfilling union. We welcome you to share at our table and all that should entail. May you all find your stomachs full and your hearts content when the night is through.”

He raised your hand as he had at the altar before he sat and pulled you down with him. Chairs creaked and scraped as others followed suit and platters were uncovered in unison by servants. His hand lingered on yours as he sat back. His other reached to shift your seat closer as he leaned over your arm.

“Tell me, my queen, how did you enjoy our ride?” He purred. “Hmm?”

You gulped as you looked at him. Your cheeks burned and you blinked. You didn’t know what to say so you parted your lips dumbly.

“It’s alright. You did make your pleasure most clear. Sang it, even, though you’ve never seemed the musical type,” He kept his voice low as the servants filled your cups with wine. He reached to one and offered it to you. “I promise, there is much more to come before we retire this night. More than you could ever know but I shall guide you as you bid me.” You wrapped your fingers around the stem of the cup and he let you take it as his hand brushed yours. “I shall show you what it means to be a wife.”

You nodded and sipped from the wine. He chuckled and grabbed his own.

“It is expected that you may be nervous; afraid, even. But did I give you an cause to be in the carriage? Did you not feel...divine?” He shielded his lips from the room with his cup.

You nodded and drank again. Your hand threatened to shake.

“Say it.” He demanded. “Tell me you liked it.”

“I--I did. I liked it…” You sputtered and set your goblet down before you could drop it. “...very much, my king.”

“I did too.” He hummed. “You tasted marvelous.”

You looked down at your skirts. You imagined them pushed up as they had been in the carriage. His head just below them, your hand in his hair. The way you’d beckoned him to your body. How you had welcomed him. The tingle that returned and called for more. The flames that washed over you though you could not tell if they burned of desire or shame. Did it matter for he would have his way regardless.

👑

The night wore on. You found yourself dancing with the king as clumsily as that first night he’d asked you. Your lack of coordination was the only thing that hadn’t changed. Eleanor was gone and no longer there to surveil you. Rose was married and glowing as she neared her due date, entirely unencumbered by the king. The ladies were yours though you hadn’t any idea how to lead them. You were just as clueless but all else had shifted around you.

You paused from your hideous dancing as you saw your mother approach. The king, your husband, never quite stopped touching you. It was a quickly formed habit and you found it wearing on you as the evening progressed. But more, you found it stoked that same heat as before. Though you told yourself it was natural, and legally consecrated, it still felt so wrong. You had supplanted another, even stolen her life.

“My dear, uh, your highness,” Your mother corrected herself as she neared. “Oh, you do look absolutely wonderful.” She grabbed your father’s arm as he retained his usual grimace. “Husband, isn’t our daughter just stunning?”

“Mmm,” Your father grumbled though his eyes never met yours. “That she is.”

“I couldn’t ask for a more beautiful wife,” Steven affirmed. “Lady Elizabeth, pardon me, Lady Bess, I promise I shall take care of her as she deserves.”

“And my girl deserves the best,” Your mother asserted. “And I shall hold you to such a promise.”

“Yes, yes, she does look a might better than the quiet little bird I first met,” Another voice sounded from behind her mother. “Bess, your daughter is much more comely than I did think. I suppose she should bear some fine heirs.”

“Mother,” Steven greeted and kissed her cheek. “I did think you would retire early, as you usually do.”

“There is much more wine here than even my chambers,” She quipped.

“Thank you,” You piped up. “Your highness, we do appreciate your presence and your efforts in coming to the capital for our wedding.”

Sarah regarded you for a moment before she replied. “Why, Steven, I’d say she learns fast but I daresay it more likely you offer a stark enough contrast that she does seem rather courteous.”

“We are very grateful, mother,” Steve said, though he could not completely hide his irritation. “We always welcome you here.”

“Though I do not always welcome this place,” She remarked. “Or weddings. The first was damned enough for me.”

Steven chuckled and ignored his mother’s complaints. He peered around and waved to another nearby. It took a few sharp gestures before you caught sight of who it was he beckoned to. Lord Barnes appeared among the crowd and nodded to his king and friend. His blue eyes were dull and dilated; as if he too had been imbibing.

“Your highness,” He gave a dramatic bow to the king. “A most splendid occasion. I daresay, hard-fought and long-awaited.”

“I daresay,” The king agreed as he squinted as his friend. “You seem to be enjoying yourself.”

“I would never gripe at free wine,” He smiled. His blue eyes caught yours for a moment and he quickly looked back to Steven. “And dancing! Though I do lack a proper partner.”

“You must have your selection, Lord, there are many ladies who no doubt prefer a duke,” The king mused.

“No doubt, though I do not prefer them,” He rolled his eyes. “I shall dance another night. A cup shall see me well enough.”

“Buck, do not be so dour. Perhaps even some water should lighten you up,” Steven remanded. “And if you insist on a partner, I might lend you mine for a tune, though not for long.”

“With her errant feet I should find my toes flattened,” He chided. “You keep your queen to yourself,” He returned. “You make a pretty pair.” He covered his mouth and withheld a hiccup. “A pretty pair…” He righted himself. “Indeed.”

He winked and disappeared back into the crowd. You watched him and wondered at his demeanour. Surely he was drunk but uncannily bitter as well. Steven barely seemed bothered as he pulled you to him once more and excused you from your parents. He drew you onto the floor and clung to your hand as he set back to following the melody of strings and brass.

“The night wears on…” He said as he turned. “But my eagerness does not, my queen.”

👑 

When at last the dancing began to wind down and the band tired, the departure of the royal couple was announced. As you neared the doors, the king’s men guided him to the left and your ladies diverted you to the right. As was the rite of any bride and groom, you would be undressed and readied by your retinue for your wedding night.

As you walked along the corridors with Rose at your side and several other women in your stead, your stomach knotted painfully. For now, you would be apart from the king but only for a moment as you were stripped down for your consummation. The last of your former life would be left behind and you would face what was to be.

You were ushered into a small room just along a corridor not far from the king’s. The giggles of the ladies echoed along the walls before they closed you in and set about their task. Rose rubbed her stomach as she watched Beatrice and Marion unlace your bodice and your sleeves were pulled off by Mary. You felt as if a thousand needles pricked at your flesh.

“It’s not so bad, your highness,” Rose offered. “I promise though, it could be worse.” She reached to her back and groaned. “If you are successful, you’ll be much like me in no time.”

You tried to smile but your lips only quivered. You let them remove your gown and stepped out of it as they removed your coronet and veil. They unbound your hair and your slippers were bundled up with your stockings. You stood in nothing but your shift; trembling from more than the cool castle air.

“Rose,” You turned to her. She was the only of the ladies you could ask. “What do I do?”

She considered you and nodded. She smiled kindly and touched your shoulder. “Let him do as he wants. If you at least try, it will not be so bad… it will hurt at first but it gets better.”

You nodded but you felt even more on edge. You anticipated more than pain; worse, humiliation, regret, immorality. It was all so vague in your head that you felt as if you marched to the block.

“You needn’t worry so much,” Rose comforted. “For as long as the king has waited, he cannot be disappointed. Just breathe.”

“Breathe,” You let out a long breath and nodded as you were wrapped up in a robe. “Alright.”

“Come on,” She held out her hand. “We cannot delay any longer. Better to have it done with anyway.”

You took her hand and she led you back into the corridor. She waddled beside you but her step was even. You approached the king’s chambers and the guards greeted you with knowing looks. The opened the doors and Rose squeezed your hand. She turned you to her and untied the belt of your robe. She grabbed the front of it and paused before pushing it down your shoulders.

“He loves you. You might be scared but it will not change his feelings for you. His want. He is a man who gets all he desires and if you give it to him, that will be your security.” She slowly shoved the robe down your arms. “You can be better than Eleanor. Be you. Be kind.”

“Thank you,” You said quietly.

The robe fell away entirely and she swept it up in her arms. She smiled at you. Envy mixed with pity. You thanked her and stepped through the doors and they closed behind you. The bedchamber was open and a subtle glow escaped the arched doorway. Just breathe, you told yourself.

You walked to the door and peeked inside the chamber. Candles were set in sconces along the wall and gave a low light to the room. The large canopied bed cast shadows like wraiths and the tall fireplace gaped like a hungry mouth. You didn’t see the king as you stepped inside. Your heart beat furiously as you turned back and yelped.

Steven appeared from behind the door to frighten you. He scooped you up as you almost stumbled over your own feet and you struggled against him. You hadn’t been expecting such a sudden encounter. You felt his bare chest against your arm as he carried you towards the bed. He dropped you onto the mattress with a chuckle.

“My queen, I did not mean to scare you so, only a little trick, you see?” He wore a pair of undershorts and nothing else. He climbed up on the bed beside you as you sat up.

“I… It was only a surprise, my king,” You assured him. “I was not expecting it.”

“Oh, but I do love to hear you make such noises,” He slid his arm behind you and pulled you close. “I should like to hear it over and over.”

He pushed you down onto your back and pressed his lips to yours. Your hand grasped at his broad chest as he did. You felt the soft hair along his firm muscle. The strength corded beneath his flesh. It assured you of your helpless and added to the pluck within you. You wanted to shove him away and yet wanted to pull him closer too.

His tongue explored your mouth as his fingers pinched and tugged at your shift. He felt your shape beneath, groped you as he hummed into your mouth, rolled his body against yours. He parted from your lips and you gasped, overwhelmed by his hands on you. His warmth surrounded you; suffocated you.

He pulled his arm from beneath you and sat back. His blue eyes sparkled in the candlelight as he traced your collarbone with his fingers. His hand slid down and gripped the neck of your shift. He grabbed the other side and tore it so sharply your body jolted. Your chest was bared to him and your nipples hardened at the cool air.

“Wow,” He let out a small gasp as his hand covered your breast. 

He purred hungrily and bent over you as he took your nipple in his mouth. He kept his hand on your chest as his other felt around between you. He pushed your shift up until it was past your knees and slipped beneath it. His fingers crawled along your thighs as you shuddered. You were trapped but the more he touched you, the less it felt like you were.

He ran his fingers along your vee and you slapped your hand against his shoulder in shock. He trailed further and pushed between your legs. With two fingers, he teased your bud and slipped between your folds. He rubbed you until the tickle grew unbearable. Until you felt the wetness gather at his touch and he spread it with his fingers.

He moved his mouth to your other breast as he shifted his body over you. He pushed one knee between your legs and then the other. A steady beat formed in your ears and deafened you. You could barely hear your own breathing as he raised his mouth back to yours. He kissed you sloppily as he cupped your sex in his hand.

He sat back and ripped your shift entirely to its hem. You gasped at your nakedness and his eyes roved over you. He reached to his shorts and shoved them down. He was careful not to catch his member as he uncovered it and your eyes rounded at the sight of it. Your chest rose and fell and his gaze followed it.

You pushed yourself up on your elbows and tried to wriggle backwards away from him. He caught your hips and forced you back down to the mattress, your legs splayed around him. He leaned over you, his hand on your throat, as he pressed his forehead to yours.

“My wife, this is your duty,” He growled. “We must consummate our union this night.” He tightened his grip enough for you to squeak in fear. “Though it is up to you whether your duty should be a task.”

You gulped and nodded. He let go and sat back again. He stood to slip free of his shorts and tossed them away. His thick thighs pushed against yours as he knelt between your legs and his muscles tensed as he looked over you. You covered your chest shyly and closed your eyes.

“Look at me,” He commanded. You shook your head. “I said,” He reached to tweak your nipple and you whimpered. “Look at me.”

You opened your eyes and he grinned. His hand fell to his cock. He glided up and down his length and groaned. He did it again as his other hand dipped between your legs. He felt along your folds as he moved closer until your legs were draped over his thighs. He swirled his fingertip around your clit and you spasmed.

“Now is not the time for modesty,” He rasped. “Your little act is over.”

He guided the tip of his member to your bud and dragged it up and down. You dug your nails into the blankets below you and held your breath as you struggled to keep from closing your eyes. He looked sinister in the shadows as he admired his body over yours.

He slickened himself along your folds. He stretched a hand over your thigh as his head met your entrance and he held himself there. He lifted his head and looked you in the eye, his lips curved. He inhaled as deep as he could and let the air whisk out shakily. He lowered his gaze again and you followed it as you felt him pushing against you.

He entered you slowly. Just the tip as you cried out in surprise and pain. Your legs tensed against his and you tried to sit up to shove him away. He caught your wrists and pushed them back down to the mattress. He held them there as he bent over you and forced himself deeper. You whined through gritted teeth.

“Stop! Stop! It hurts!” You begged. “It hur--”

Your voice caught in your throat as he slammed into you entirely. He pulled back and thrust again and you exclaimed. The tears rose and you shook as he repeated the motion once more. You bent your legs as you braced yourself against the mattress and he rocked in a steady motion.

“Lord, you feel so good,” He growled as he released your wrists. 

He framed your face with his hand and kissed you. He didn’t stop as he swallowed your breath and his tongue invaded your mouth. He smothered your whimpers as you shook beneath him.

He planted his elbow beside your head and snaked his hand between your bodies. He reached down and found your bud as he worked in and out of you. He rubbed you as he kept his pace even. The pain intertwined with the peculiar strumming at your core and you brought your hand up to grip his bicep. 

You bit your lip as you tried to resist the pleasure as it nipped away at the pain. He sat up and looked to his hand as he circled his thumb around your clit. A wild smoke filled your chest and clouded your head. You writhed and cupped your chest in your hands. He sped up and smiled as he watched you react.

He thrust harder and harder. It still hurt but his hand distracted you and built a different sort of pressure that threatened to burst. Your mewls turned to moans and you panted frantically. You needed the release. You needed that same relief you’d found earlier. The sudden and simple deluge of bliss that would carry you away.

You arched your back as your climax bloomed along your thighs and spine. As it enshrined you and unravelled all at once. As you let forth a carnal cry and clawed at your skin as the sensation overwhelmed you. He didn’t stop, even as your bud grew overwrought and sore. He kept on until you begged.

He smiled but in the dark it was almost a sneer. He stilled his hips but remained inside you as he bent over your body. He shoved his arm beneath you and lifted you with him as he sat back. He hugged you to him as his other hand gripped your hip and he guided you. You began to rock under his guidance, your arms slung over his shoulders.

“No more hiding,” He snarled. “I see it in your eyes.” He jerked himself up sharply as you tilted into him and you flinched. “You don’t want to but you like it, don’t you?” You shook your head and his dug his nails into your hip. “Don’t you?”

“Yes, yes,” You gasped. “I--I--I like it.”

“You like it?” He urged.

“I do, my king,” You hissed.

You felt the rise again as your clit rubbed against his pelvis. He moved you against him faster as he plunged deeper. He brought you down harder and harder as he groaned louder and louder. Your moans streamed forth without restraint and you chased the pique. Again. You wanted it again.

“My queen,” He purred as he thrust into you over and over. The sound of your flesh mixed with your voices in a lurid melody. You were breathless as you came once more. “My...queen…” He dragged his hands up your back and hooked his fingers over your shoulder. He crashed into you over and over. “My…”

His words crumbled and he only grunted as his body spasmed violently against you. He fell forward and crushed you against the mattress. His hips slowed as he hung his head and his shoulders fell. He rested his weight on you as he remained between your legs. You were helpless beneath him; your chest hammered in time with his.

You closed your eyes as the glow faded. As the candlelight dimmed and the night returned. As you laid beneath the spent king on his messed bed, his seed leaking out around his cock. Your heart slowed and you were suddenly very tired. Your walls ached around him and he wiggled his hips as if to taunt you. He lifted his head and looked down at you with triumphant smirk. 

“Don’t worry, my queen,” He nuzzled your cheek, “We will not have to wait so long ever again.”


	27. Chapter 27

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This Chapter: The reader tries to adjust to married life.
> 
> Warnings: dark elements, dub/noncon (cummies!)
> 
> This is dark!(king)Steve and explicit. 18+ only.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> At this point, is it really about anything other than the smut?
> 
> <3 Let me know what you think with a comment! Love ya!

The night was restless. Every time you were about to doze, Steven rolled over again and took you. Just as fervent as the first time. In a way, it was easier but it hurt just the same. You were tender still and he only seemed encouraged by your squirms and squeals. You slept for an hour before the sun rose and when it did, it seared your eyes and threatened to crack your skull.

The king snored loudly, his arm across you. You carefully slipped away from him though you feared you would rouse him again. You searched out your torn shift on the floor. _Useless._ You tossed it into the chair and searched the room for cover as you shivered. A large robe hung from a hook and you neared it eagerly. As you touched the silk, the snoring ceased.

Your name rose from the bed and you turned, the sleeve in your hand. Steven sat up as he rubbed his eyes and scratched his jawline. “What are you doing over there?”

“I wanted to cover up,” You said. “I haven’t any clothing here and my trousseau awaits me in my chamber.”

“Your chamber...” He his arms above him and yawned, “Is no longer necessary.”

“Pardon?” You let go of the sleeve and turned to him fully. You tried to cover yourself with only your arms.

“We are married. I see no reason why we should reside apart; why our beds should be but one,” His hand fell to his lap. He stroked himself and was hard in an instant. He groaned and leaned back against the headboard. “Come here, wife.”

You hesitated. Your core ached as your thighs rubbed together and you took your first step towards him. You could not deny him now. You were husband and wife. You’d taken a vow. There was no excuse to be had and to find one could mean your head. 

You thought of Eleanor; thought of the nights she must have spent here; the nights she spent alone. The blood dripped along the edge of your vision.

“Up,” He patted the mattress as you neared.

You got up on your knees and he grabbed your wrist. He tugged you over to him and you could only straddle him as he took you by the waist. He pushed you down until you felt him prod you from below. He reached down and lined himself up with your entrance. He eased you down onto him and you whimpered.

“It still hurts?” He asked as he bottomed out. You nodded and bit your lip. “It will only help then.”

He began to rock you. You grabbed his shoulders and followed his lead. His hand slipped down and he pressed his thumb to your bud. You moaned and he smirked up at you. 

“See?” He hummed as he swirled around your clit. “That’s it, like that.”

He let go of your hip and reached to cradle your face. He held your chin firmly and forced you to look at him. Your lips parted as your breath grew more harried. He pulled you to him and kissed you. He plucked until you sang and threw your head back. You bucked as you came and for a second, the pain was gone.

It returned quickly as he flipped you over. He thrust into as he pinned you down by your shoulders. He held himself up as he watched himself slide in and out of you. His muscles rippled beneath his skin as he growled. You gripped his thick biceps as you mewled pathetically.

“That is the most beautiful sight, my queen,” He purred. “Look at how well you fit me.”

You blinked and felt the tears prick. Your own body continued to betray you. To bend to him as he used you. It was exactly as you expected. You weren’t anything more than object to him. A toy to be played with when he was bored. And disposed of when he tired of you.

His flesh clapped against yours loudly as he crashed into you even harder. He bounced you on the feather mattress. He rammed into you so hard you yelped. He tossed his head back as he plunged deeper and deeper. You beat at his chest as the barrage became unbearable. As your walls felt as if they would tear. There was no pleasure left in you.

“Stop!” You pleaded. “Oh, please, please, stop!”

“To serve and obey,” He snarled as he continued. “Isn’t… that… so… my… wife?”

He sank into you completely and his hips twitched. He came inside and sat back with a sigh. He wiped his shining forehead as his chest rose and fell quickly. He smiled and slowly pulled out of you. He fell down beside you as his cum dripped from you.

“I will have your chests packed and brought here upon the morrow but I have ordered that we not be disturbed for the day.” His hand strayed and grazed your stomach. “You won’t need your clothes until then, anyhow.”

👑

Your coronation would be the last festivity in the capital before the summer progress. A whole fortnight after your wedding. An interminable two weeks cloistered in the castle with your new husband. Your infatuated and insistent husband. With hands that never stopped touching you entirely, with an eye that always had you in its sight.

You were to wear purple and ermine. The tailor tried to convince you towards velvet but your mother argued it should see you unconscious in the mid-spring warmth. She also insisted that while the man would take your measurements, she would once more be in charge of the creation of the dress.

You barely had energy for any of it. Each night since the wedding was just as sleepless as the last. Half a week and it already felt like half a year. You were truly naive. You’d thought he would lose interest quickly. That’s what you had always thought, because he always did. _Well, there was time yet._

When you finished your fitting, you were due to attend your ladies. It was odd, sitting in Eleanor’s place. It was the only use for your chambers now. The bedchamber was firmly shut and the receiving chamber was set out with stools and benches to accommodate the women as they sat around and entertained themselves with poetry, sewing, and gossip. It was surreal to have them bow to you; to have a title beyond ‘lady’, to have them look on you with an envy so close to fear.

When you entered that day, it was the same. Your guards remained at the door as you apologized for your tardiness. The ladies stood and bent, though Rose struggled to do either. She sat next to the seat reserved for you. You crossed to the tall armchair and sat as the rest did the same.

“No need to apologize,” Rose said as she lowered herself with a hand on her rounding stomach. “A queen need not apologize.”

“Mmm,” You nodded and tried to smile at the women. 

The castle felt more and more like a prison. The time you were allotted away from the king was a mere farce. It wasn’t near enough and the time you spent together, you were his. You weren’t his wife or his queen, just _his_. It made you restless like an animal in a cage.

“Ladies, were we in the mood for poetry today?” You asked tentatively. They never truly answered. None would say no even if they weren’t.

Marion’s eyes were behind you, a dreamy cloud behind them. You followed her gaze and looked to the open window. A soft spring breeze blew in and carried a hint of the rain that had come the day before. It smelled like flowers and dirt. It smelled like freedom.

“Perhaps, we might go to the garden and read,” You announced. “Or maybe just for a stroll. It was such a grey winter.”

The women nodded and muttered their ascent. Again, you could never really tell if it was true agreement or simple pandering. You stood and they did too. Rose struggled and you reached for her arm as Beatrice did the same. She chuckled as you lifted her to her feet.

“I might find a bench and watch the birds,” Rose said. “Not much walking to be had for me.”

“Whatever you wish,” You assured her. “Any of you. But the gardens have been freshly tended and it’s a wonderful day outside. I should like to bask in it before we are to leave the castle.”

The ladies’ faces brightened and you smiled. You glanced one last time to the window and breathed in the cool air. You would pick some flowers for the king’s chamber to brighten it. To add warmth to the dark and foreboding place that haunted both your waking and few sleeping hours. It would be a brief distraction. Short, but welcome nonetheless.

You marched through the circle of women and pulled the doors open yourself. The guards turned to you quizzically as you strode out into the corridor. You could see they meant to remand you but you knew they could not contradict a queen. 

“We are going to the gardens,” You said, “Would you be so kind as to escort us?”

The guards looked to each other and nodded. The other women streamed out between them as their voices mingled and echoed along the stone. You smiled and took Rose’s hand as she waddled out at the rear of the pack. You clung to her and sighed.

“Let’s go.”

👑

The hedges were green and lush. You recalled the barren brambles of the winter, the snow that shrouded them. The whistling winter gales were replaced by chirping birds and skittering critters. The sun shone down from its apex in the sky and basked the world in its glory.

You helped Rose sit and Beatrice sat beside her. You thought of how you should feel in a similar condition; round and even more helpless. Perhaps it would be a reprieve from the king. Perhaps it wouldn’t. You closed your eyes and turned away from the pair of ladies. 

You hated thinking of the future. You had dreaded this marriage and this day for so long, that you couldn’t anymore. Eleanor loomed over your every move, your every thought, and you couldn’t bear it. Death came to all and there was nothing to do against it. Be it by the sword or by the clock.

“Excuse me, my ladies, if I do wander upon my own,” You said. “You might do the same and find some pretty flowers.”

They bowed their heads and watched you as you neared the hedges and ran your hand over the leaves. There were daffodils lined around the fountain at the centre of the gardens and a rainbow of tulips along the way. You set off towards the great flowing goliath as it splashed, weaving between the hedges and plots; careful not to tread on the spring blooms.

Your guard followed at several paces. He was never far. You sat on the edge of the fountain and dipped your hand in the cool clear water, a litter of loose leaves and petals across the pool. You looked at yourself in its depths. You didn’t feel like a queen; if anything you felt ever more powerless. This life was not your own. These mournful thoughts came over you even when you swore them off. 

You let out a wistful sigh and thought of the coming progress. You would ask the king if you could ride to Terry Castle that season; Edward’s family keep. You could see your sister and meet your nephew. The possibility enlivened you. You smiled at yourself in the water.

The sound of hooves interrupted your rare moment of joy. You looked up as your guard gripped his pommel and peered across the hedges to the ladies. A dozen horses galloped upon the gardens and you watched the party draw to a halt before the stone bench where rose sat. The other women were speckled among the greenery like flowers.

Steven led his men on his tall steed. He dismounted easily and approached the pregnant woman and her companion at their perch. His men followed him, their boots kicking up the dirt as they did. You stood and wrung your hands as you watched the king greet the ladies with a bow and the boom of his timorous voice.

Rose answered and the king turned to glance around. He found you in an instant and nodded to the women as he left them behind. He strode down the winding path and brushed past your guard with a wave of his hand. The armoured sentinel retreated back to where the others gathered.

“My queen, you did not tell me you would visit the gardens this day?” He reached to you as he neared.

“It was spontaneous,” You answered as you took his hand. He drew you close and kissed your cheek. “The weather is so fine that we could think of nothing else.”

“A marvelous idea,” He assured as he clung to you. “Might I accompany you on your excursion?”

“Certainly. I do not know these gardens so well as a queen should,” You allowed and tried not to recoil. A brief respite, indeed.

“They have been hard at work in tending it all” He pointed ahead to the tall hedges at the rear of the fountain as he pulled you around it. “My father had the labyrinth designed during his reign. He would hold a game here in the summer. A peach would be hidden within and its finder would be prized a purse of gold.”

“Oh,” You stood before the wall of green and peered back over your shoulder. “It sounds a most exciting game.”

“My queen, do not worry,” He tugged on you until you turned back to him. “I have never been lost in this maze… but perhaps we can play a game of our own.”

You looked to him as you stood in the archway crafted of vines and leaves. He turned you to him and leaned in close. His breath glossed over your lips as he rubbed his nose against yours. 

“I shall count,” He said. “And when I have reached one hundred I shall come find you.” He pressed his lips to yours and lingered hungrily. “If I do not find you before you escape, you shall have a new necklace.”

“And if you do?” You looked up at him.

“Then I shall think of a prize of my own,” He smirked and ran his hands along your sides. “So I shall turn and close my eyes and begin my count.”

“I am slowed by my skirts, my king, and I did not think to change into my boots.” You said.

“Then I will add fifty to my count,” He countered as he released you and turned slowly away. “One,” He began, “Two,” He lifted his hands to cover his eyes. “Three…”

You stared at him until he reached five then dove into the maze of hedges. You could hear the voices of the lords and ladies not far behind. The deeper you got, the more they faded. The shadows hung over you as the sun peeked over the walls and you twisted and turned frantically. Perhaps you might not find your way out but you might lose yourself so entirely that even Steven could not find you.

You turned another corner and tripped upon a stone. You fell into the dirt, your blue skirts stained with it. You pushed yourself back up to your feet and listened for the king’s voice. You couldn’t tell if he had finished or you had descended too deep to hear. You scurried on as you held your skirts up over your slippered feet.

And then you did hear him. A footstep and then another. You dove down another path as you tried to quiet your breath. You wound away from the sound of his boots as he pursued you, no doubt able to hear you in kind. You fought to run against your heavy skirts and dodged around the next corner.

He was there. You’d sworn his steps had faded behind you but there he was. Expecting you even, as he smiled back at you. It reminded you of the hunt; the day he’d presented you the felled stag; his eyes were dilated with anticipation. You stumbled back as he lunged for you. You couldn’t help but let out a shrill yelp as he did.

You wriggled against him as he chuckled. “My queen, I believe I’ve won our little game,” He declared as you struggled against him. “And I should claim my prize.”

“Your prize?” You gasped as he spun you and pushed you against a hedge. You almost sunk into it as he leaned his weight on you.

“Oh yes.” He ran his fingertips along your throat and down your chest. He pushed them beneath the top of your bodice and hummed. “You are my prize. I could want for nothing else.”

“Here?” You blinked as you looked around.

“There are none other in this maze and if they are, it would be rare fortune for them to stumble upon us.” He slipped his fingers from your bodice and continued down your figure. “But if they should…then it would be upon them to explain why they should intrude upon a married couple,” He grinned as he drew his hand away and picked at the top of his trousers. “You must abide by the rules of the game.”

He tugged loose his pants and pulled his member free of the fabric. He was hard and eager. He stroked himself as he leered down at you. You reached back to grasp the leaves of the hedge. You were on fire to think he should bear himself beneath the open sky. At what else he meant to do in the light of the sun.

He bent and gathered your skirts in his arms as he pushed them up. You tried to shove them back down but found yourself bundled up in the fabric. He held the silk in one arm as his other hooked around your leg and he drew it up so that you wobbled on one foot. You were forced to grab onto him to keep from falling.

“I did think of this many times,” He moved his hips as his cock poked between your legs. It took him several tries before he was able to guide himself along your folds. “That day upon the hunt, I did dream of chasing you off into the trees.” He prodded until he slipped inside and you gasped. “Of dragging you from your horse and taking you against a wild oak.”

He sheathed himself entirely and you grasped the wool of his jacket between your fingers. The golden thread that marked his chest was rough against your palms. He thrust and nearly took you off the ground as your slipper slid through the dirt. The hedge poked at your back every time he rocked his hips.

He grunted and groaned as he moved against you. Your skirts bunched between your bodies and hung behind you. He bent and scooped up your other leg. You exclaimed as he lifted you entirely and glided you up and down his cock. You looked into his face, surprised and mortified as the heat began to stir. His pelvis rubbed against your bud and the warmth threatened to spread.

You began to pant as you followed his motion. You forgot about the lords and ladies just outside the maze, of the hot sun beating down on the dirt, of how he’d spoiled your afternoon. There was only your bodies and the shameful way he stole your pleasure from you.

“And now I think of how when we leave this maze,” He breathed against your cheek as he pushed you against the hedge. “You will walk with my seed upon your thighs. That you should try to walk as if I have not just fucked you.” He moaned and you couldn’t but echo him. “As I do plan to fuck you this night, as well.”

You were rabid. You squeezed your legs around his hands and tilted your hips against him. You needed to cum badly. It all built up so quickly; the stress, the regret, the self-pity, and your only relief was the few seconds of rapture. And though you dreaded his intrusions, you longed for them just as much.

You buried your head in his neck and moaned into his collar as you came. He jerked into you decisively, a pause between each thrust as he gloried in your surrender. And he came too. He grunted as his fingers dug into the flesh of your legs. H pounded into you as deep as he could. He emptied himself in you and slowed until he was still and panting to the sky.

“If only we could remain here forever,” He sighed. “I should like nothing better to keep you here in my labyrinth. To lose ourselves entirely.”

You trembled as you lifted your head. His eyes found yours and he wiggled his hip. You squirmed and mewled at the movement. He bent his knees as he lowered you back to the ground and slid out of you. He held your skirts up as he watched his cum spill from you. He licked his lip and dropped the fabric to hide the mess.

“My queen,” He reached to fix your hood as you smoothed out your skirts. 

He straightened his collar and laced up his trousers. He pushed his shoulders back and let out a low growl. He offered his arm and you took it, still in a daze as your body buzzed. He drew you away from the hedges. 

“Let us return to our party before they should wonder.” He preened and rubbed himself through his pants. “Though I might have you again before we find our way out.”


	28. Chapter 28

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This Chapter: The reader is crowned.
> 
> Warnings: dark elements, dub/noncon (oral)
> 
> This is dark!(king)Steve and explicit. 18+ only.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, we’ll get a little drama in this one but a healthy dose of cummies :D
> 
> <3 Let me know what you think with a comment! Love ya!

The silver cloak hung from your shoulders and swished around you. It was trimmed in ermine, the fur of royalty, and covered the violet gown beneath. You wore your hair loose and a thin silver chain about your neck. The wide collar of your dress displayed your shoulders under the cape which would be removed following your crowning. You looked a queen but didn’t feel it.

You stood before the tall doors of the throne room. The walk to the twin seats was perilous in your mind. The people lined the edges of the hall and their voices could be heard through the iron-braced wood. You closed your eyes and tried to gather yourself. _This was it._

You felt Eleanor beside you. She had to be there, watching from the ether. _What would she think? Pretender; traitor; usurper._ You opened your eyes and exhaled. She wasn’t there because you were.

The doors shifted and were pulled open in a cacophony. You looked up and the audience blurred at the edge of your vision. The king stood by his throne, an archbishop too. You pressed your hands flat to your skirts and held your head high. Be the pretender. They didn’t need to know how frightened you truly were.

You put one foot in front of the other. You carried yourself with long strides as the people hushed and a symphony of horns picked up. It reminded you of your wedding, not so long ago. And it foretold a lifetime of gruelling duty. Of doing what was required of you and not what you desired.

As you neared the front of the hall, the king grinned widely upon the low platform that was the foundation of the thrones. The archbishop watched stoically as you stepped up. Your long cape flowed behind you and caught as you turned to face the monarch and the cleric. You smiled, at least you tried too, and holy man held up the sacred tome. His voice was sonorous and carried across the cavernous ceiling.

“I here present unto you your undoubted Queen and consort. Wherefore all you who are come this day to do your homage and service, are you willing to do the same?” He declared.

“Long live the queen,” The people recited in unison. Their voices were daunting; foreboding. You gulped and stared at the archbishop to keep from trembling at the sight of the masses. He turned to you and nodded.

“Will you solemnly promise and swear to govern the people according to the laws and customs of this land?” He asked.

“I solemnly promise so to do.” You answered. Your voice came louder than expected but you were thankful that it did not quaver.

“Will you to your power cause Law and Justice, in Mercy, to be executed in all your judgments?” He continued. You recited your response again. “Will you to the utmost of your power maintain the laws of the creator and his word? And will you preserve unto the clergy of the See, and to the altars there committed to their charge, all such rights and privileges, as by law do or shall appertain to them or any of them?”

“All this I promise to do. The things which I have here before promised, I will perform, and keep. I vow it upon the lord.” You answered as you had practiced with your mother as she laced your gown. You felt even more foolish before the crowd than before the mirror.

The archbishop then turned to the room and said a prayer. You folded your hand and listened with your head bowed. When he concluded, he turned to you and two servants appeared at your shoulders. They unclasped your cape and removed it from your shoulders.

“I do ask you to kneel so that you may be crowned under the word and the sight of our lord, as my hand shall be that of the See and of his will.” The archbishop announced. 

You lowered yourself to your knees and a boy appeared with a cushion, upon which rested a silver crown which bore a large amethyst. You bowed your head again as he lifted the crown. You felt him hover above your head and slowly the metal met your hair.

“It is by the right and authority of the lord and his See and the people of this land that I crown you Queen.” He concluded. “You may rise and ascend your throne.”

You looked up and the king appeared beside you. He offered his hand and helped you rise. He led you to the thrones and waited for you to sit before he did the same. You couldn’t look at the people and so you looked above them. Their eyes seared you.

“I do now call upon the lords to swear their fealty to our new queen,” The archbishop announced. “I shall call to them one by one and they shall come forth and make their oath.” A list was presented to the cleric and he blinked at it before he read the first name. “Lord Barnes, Duke of Brook’s End, the court does call upon you.”

The room was still and the dark-haired duke appeared from among the crowd. He wore a burgundy overcoat and fawn-coloured pants. He approached the thrones with his shoulders squared and his chin held high. He showed little emotion as he stopped before you.

“I, Lord Barnes, Duke of Brook’s End, will be faithful and true, and faith and truth will bear unto you, our Sovereign Lady, Queen of this Realm and Defender of the Faith,” His jaw ticked as he spoke and his blue eyes met yours coolly. He did not flinch. “And unto your heirs and successors according to law. By the lord, I vow it.” 

He bowed and waited for his dismissal. You gave it with a nod and watched him retreat back to the crowd. His lips were set in half a frown as he stared at the rows of people opposite him. His eyes were dull and distant. You hid your concern. He was the least of your worries.

“And Lord Stark, Duke of the Iron Tower,” The bishop called forth and you righted yourself. “The court does call upon you…”

👑 

When the ceremony was through, you were ushered to yet another feast. You were tiring of the formality of court; of the excess. And the king’s hands. He had lost all restraint. As you sat upon the dais and dined, his hand tugged at your skirts and felt your legs beneath. Hidden by the table and the cloth that shrouded it, you barely kept from him pulling all the fabric above your knees.

For once, you were relieved when the band picked up and the bodies flowed onto the boards. The king pulled you down after him. You were getting better if only to avoid embarrassment. You found your toes finding his less often and you moved without so much thought. 

As the lutes plucked, he spun you and groped you, unabashed of his lust. As it was, the guests barely seemed to notice for the wine and their own partners. And then he stopped. Your mother sat at the table as your father spoke with Lord Alan quietly. At first, you thought it was him Steven watched. Then he turned to you and raised your hand to his lips. 

“My queen, would I be remiss to present a dance to your mother? She does seem to wiggle to the music so.”

“My mother?” You wondered. “Why, yes, I suppose if she doesn’t mind, I do not.”

“I know you love her well and I am her son now,” He said. “I should like to make her happy.”

“Of course,” You patted his hand and he released you at last. “I think she might like it very much.”

“Oh, but do not worry,” He looked around and waved over your head. “Buck,” He called and your teeth clenched without thinking. “The queen should need a partner as I see you do too. Should I propose a solution to your mutual shortcoming?”

“I am not of the mood to dance,” Barnes neared reluctantly. “But if you should wish it.”

“Oh do not be such a curmudgeon, I’ve never known you to turn away a jaunt,” The king swept you around with a hand on your back. “A dance, and with a queen upon her coronation.”

“Very well,” Barnes allowed and offered his hand stiffly. “Your highness.”

“Very well,” The king echoed and barely seemed to notice his friend’s discontent as he turned away. 

You watched him stroll towards the long table where your mother sat and you longed for him to return. For the first time in your marriage, you aggrieved his absence, if only to shield you from the man before you. You looked back to the duke as he guided you in the first few steps.

“If you do not wish to dance, you need not pretend for me,” You said. “I’d rather you enjoyed yourself this night.”

“I am enjoying myself,” He insisted without looking at you.

You huffed silently and your nostrils flared. He refused to meet your gaze. His jaw ticked and he stared over your shoulder.

“Tell me what it is I have done to offend you so deeply?” You demanded.

“Why, nothing,” He answered curtly. “As always.”

“You barely speak to me, you avoid me, and you won’t even look at me,” You hissed. “And now you should dance with me as if I should pass upon you some horrible disease.”

“You may be queen but it is not all about you, your highness.” He returned.

“I know that well enough, sir,” You retorted. “Now I ask you again what I have done to earn your chagrin?”

He scoffed and turned you. “I told you; nothing. You are as innocent as the day we first met, your highness.”

“What do you mean?”

He was silent for a moment. His lips curved sardonically as he looked around the room and avoided you still. “I find it most unfathomable that you did not plan this oh so well as you preen yourself upon his arm so flagrantly.”

“He is my husband,” You asserted.

“And was that not your end? To acquire a husband at this court?”

“And what is it you suggest of me, my lord?”

“You were warned over and over. You were told for every no you had he would have a yes. That he should do anything to bend you to his will. I’m certain you never thought it should go so far but it did. Mistress? No. Amour? No. Marry me and be kept in comfort? No. You _had_ to be his wife. You _had_ to be queen.” He looked at you with fire in his eyes. “And it cost her blood and look what you’ve spent it on. You are still the king’s toy, it is merely that he has given you a crown.”

“Do not-- I never wanted that.” You snarled. “To insinuate--” Your voice cracked and you stopped suddenly. He did too as he clung to your hand. “He killed Eleanor, not me.”

“Because it took Eleanor’s blood to sate your appetite.”

“Don’t you dare,” You lowered your voice so that you could barely be heard above the din. “Don’t you thrust that upon me. Do not presume to know me thus because you are scorned. You vile lap dog!”

“Lap dog?” He repeated as he tore his hand from yours.

“Oh, how eagerly you did take his orders. And you should now shirk them upon another.” The anger crept up your spine like flames through the brush.

“And do you ever admit to a fault, oh, saintly maiden? Or do you truly live upon the whims of others?”

“You!” You jabbed your finger through the air. “You brought me back here. I begged you not to and you did anyway. You-- you could have let me be. You could have let me go.”

“Where?”

“Anywhere,” You said. “But you brought me back and what end did you expect but this?”

He was quiet again. He lowered his eyes and shrugged. The shadows underlined his anger.

“It is I who should be angry at you,” You spat. “I who should begrudge your hand in my fate but was fool enough to let it be.”

“A fool indeed,” He looked at you sharply. “Long live the queen.”

He bowed and spun on his heel. He marched away from you and disappeared into the crowd. You threw your hands up and shook your head. You looked around at the swirling figures and found the king with your mother. They were rapt in their routine. And no other dancer noticed you standing alone in their midst. Even with a crown upon your brow, you were insignificant.

You dove into the crowd. You stormed past the satins, the silks, and the warm flesh. You knew you shouldn’t abandon your own coronation, but it didn’t feel like yours. It was his. It was all his; this country, this castle, this court; you. And you couldn’t imagine any thought differently than Barnes. _How could they?_ Even a man you’d considered your friend would forsake you as a whore.

The corridor was cooler. You could breathe there. You could think. You walked along the stone and listened to the soft pad of your slippers. Just a moment, just a bit of time to compose yourself, and you’d return. You turned the corner and then the next. You didn’t know where you were going but you could find your way back.

You stopped and leaned against the wall. You put your hands to your chest and felt the hammering of your heart. It hurt. Certainly, you were upset with him. You cursed him many times for dragging you back but you didn’t hate him. And you thought that once it all settled he’d still be the same lord who teased you for your poor dancing and timidity. But he had come to hate you instead.

You heard footsteps and looked up as a shadow appeared at the end of the corridor. The silhouette was burned into your mind; etched in your dreams. You tried to duck away but the deep voice called you back. 

“Do you hide from me again, my queen?” The king’s tone was playful and a hint lewd.

“I did only seek air,” You said as you went towards him, “I was about to return to the hall and find you.”

“But I found you,” He seized you and pushed you back into an alcove. “Do you remember that night? Of the harvest? When I found you in the hall? Do you know of what I longed to do to you?”

“We should go back--”

“Our guests are much too drunk to think of any but themselves,” He said. “They will not miss us.”

“My king, you can tell me later, when we are alone.”

“We are alone now,” He pressed you to the wall. “And I do not mean to tell you.”

His hands were on your shoulders and ran along the purple silk of your sleeves. He gripped your waist as he knelt before you and you tried to push him away. 

“Someone might stumble upon us.” You breathed.

“Let them.” He growled. He trailed his hands down your skirts and tugged the hem up. You tried to catch them before he could raise them higher and he grabbed your hips and shoved you against the wall. “I kneel for you my queen.”

His hands fluttered back down as he gathered the fabric. You watched him, horrified, and he lifted your skirts past his head. You squirmed against the cold stone as he let your dress fall around him and bury him. He tickled his hand along your thigh as he parted your legs and you felt his hot breath along your vee.

He nuzzled you and played with you as his fingers slid along your folds. You shuddered and closed your eyes. You touched your forehead as you tried not to make a noise. He lifted your leg and hooked it over his shoulder. His fingers slipped inside and you moved your hand over your mouth.

When his tongue touched you, your other hand grasped his head through your skirts. “My king…” You pleaded in a hush. He hummed and carried on. You clapped your hand over your mouth once more.

He delved deeper as he pulled his fingers in and out of your. He sucked on your bud and flicked around with his tongue. You found it hard to breathe past your palm. You struggled to muffle your moans as your nails dug into the silk. You urged him on as he drank you in. 

You turned your hand and bit into the heel. Your thighs tingled and flames licked up your spine. You let yourself ascend as you chased your pleasure. Your leg shook as it barely kept you upright, the king’s hand kneading your other. You panted as your voice broke free.

Your eyes snapped open as you came. It fell upon you so suddenly it made your heart stutter. And then you saw. The shadow just a few feet away. The lantern light traced the lines of Lord Barnes’ face as he stood watching. His lips were parted slightly as his gaped at you.

“Stop,” You swatted the king’s head beneath your skirts. “Please, stop! Stop!”

Steven ignored you and kept going until you squeaked. Lord Barnes shook himself as if awaking from a daze. He closed his mouth and his throat constricted above his collar. He backed away and tore his gaze from you at last. He left as quickly as he appeared. 

You leaned into the stone wall and prayed you faded into it. _Was that a pang of shame or hurt in your chest? Was it both?_

And then the king stopped and let your leg fall. He pulled his head from your skirts and smirked up at you. He took your hands as he drew himself to his feet and sighed. 

“So, my queen, do we return to our guests or shall we retire for the night?”


	29. Chapter 29

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This Chapter: The royal court begins their yearly progress.
> 
> Warnings: dark elements, dub/noncon sex
> 
> This is dark!(king)Steve and explicit. 18+ only.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Steve’s darkness is starting to show y’all but now we getting messy up in here!!! Hope y’all enjoy as I work my but off moving oversize tv’s and helping boomers buy tech they don’t understand. ✌️
> 
> <3 Let me know what you think with a comment! Love ya!

The royal progress set off at dawn. The king rode his tall black steed as you sat in an open carriage with several ladies. He was just ahead of you with his most favoured men; Lord Barnes sat stiffly upon his golden gelding and only nodded when spoken to. You tried not to look at him and instead focused on the winding roads.

Behind the nobles and their painted carriages followed the servants, their mules, and wagons full of luggage. Marion sat on one side of you and Beatrice the other. Joan and Mary sat across from you. Rose had left a week earlier for her confinement with Lord Alan. You missed her calmness; her confidence.

You were tired. Not just from the king and his list, but for the dream that had ripped you back into consciousness. That of you on your knees, the swordsman at your shoulder, the jeering crowd before you. You looked up and found the king to be your executioner but as he swung his blade his features distorted and it was Lord Barnes who would plunge his steel through your neck.

Then you awoke in the dark. Steven snored beside you, his nakedness barely covered by the twisted blankets. Your own made you shiver as you pulled a quilt over you. You laid awake until he stirred and wanted what he did every morning past.

Your body ached at the thought. His endless desire consumed you and every waking moment. You prayed that travel would see him distracted. 

He had, however, agreed to change the route of the progress upon your request. The night after your coronation, as you lay beneath his arm, you pet him and asked if he should let you visit your sister. He consented easily, sleepily even. But he remembered and Lord Edward sent word to his castle to have it prepared.

You stopped to eat at noon but pressed onto Priskham where Lord Reginald would host the first week of the progress. The estate was chosen for its proximity to the capital. It was dark when you approached the chubby noble's keep, the party was well worn from the day's ride. 

There was a flurry as guards and servants set about unpacking and surveying the sprawling yard. As you approached the king, Barnes was near and looked up from listening to his companion's whispered comments. His blue eyes sparked and flicked away.

Reginald's staff greeted him and the lord welcomed you and Steven to his abode with a bow as he guided a servant to show you first to your chambers. The king took your arm as you were led to the doors and Barnes stepped around you decisively. You had only seen him in passing since that night.

You tried not to think about it. About the look in his eyes. _Was it judgment? Hurt? Hatred?_ You didn't know what was worse; the spite when he deigned to look at you or when he would refuse to.

You let Steven guide you after the servant. The chambers were fine enough. A round receiving chamber with long windows and an attached bedroom with a large bed and narrow hearth. A finely woven carpet matched the deep red drapes and there were fresh rushes upon the floor.

It wasn't long before you were abed. The king closed the door between the chambers as you listened to the servants unload the chests in the next. You wore nothing but a sleeping gown and rolled onto your side. The sun and the spring air had tired you.

Steven laid down beside you and you pretended to doze, hoping he would leave you be. He shimmied against you and wrapped his arm around you. He was naked, you could tell by the prod along your rear.

"Are you so tired, my queen?" He cooed.

You grumbled as if awaking suddenly. "I am, I do apologize."

"You needn't," He rubbed his nose against your hair. "You may stay as you are…" His hand floated over your thin gown and tugged it up your leg. "...I shall do all the work."

"Might we not wait until the morning?" You yawned. "It was a rather long day."

He chuckled into your hair as he snaked his other arm beneath you. You gasped as his fingers wrapped around your throat. He pressed his body to yours as he squeezed.

"Why do you continue to resist me even when we are wed, hmm? You would feign sleep to evade me?" His voice gritted dangerously. "As if you do not enjoy it as I do. As if you do not want it." He gathered your skirt around your waist and pushed your ass back into him. "You are not the maiden you were though it does rile me to imagine it thus."

He pushed between your legs and forced you to arch your back. He guided himself between your thighs and his head poked at your entrance. He shoved himself inside and you let out a whimper. You were dry and he did not hold back.

"I do not… I do try to be a good wife," You grabbed at his hand and he held you tighter until you could barely breath. 

"And so you will not deny me my marital right," He snarled. "Hmm? Waking or not I shall have you." He thrust sharply and you reached back to claw at his thigh. "So, while you might wish to rest it will not overrule me."

You were frightened as your vision sparkled and his hand did not move from your throat. His flesh clapped against yours as you heard a chest clatter atop another in the next room. He grunted as he carried on without heed to your struggles.

He turned you onto your stomach and smothered you against the mattress. He rutted into you as you found it harder to breathe with your face buried in the pillow. His weight and grip were worse as you suffocated beneath him.

The bed shook with every jerk of his hips. "Though you are just as delicious as our first night." He spoke into your hair as he plunged into you. "And every night hence."

The strength went out of you and you let him continue. It hurt but it would only be worse if you fought him. He grunted and groaned in your ear and sped up with each tilt of his hips.

He let go of your neck and pushed himself up with his hands on your shoulders. He pinned you as he pounded into you spasmodically. He let out a roar as he emptied himself in you.

He panted but didn't pull out as he lowered himself again. He rolled you with him back onto your side. He held you as his chest slowed. He hummed.

"Sleep now, my wife," He slithered. "You are learning." He pushed himself as deep as he could go. "But not quick enough."

👑

You awoke as the king pulled out of you. You slept heavily despite his lingering touch. You ached and felt cold without his warmth. Sticky too. Dirty.

He stood and stretched in the sunlight as it streamed between the curtains. He strode lazily into the bath chamber and emerged shortly after. He passed into the receiving chamber and returned with a silk robe around him. He offered you your own as he caressed your bare shoulder.

"I will send for our breakfast," He said as he stood straight and tied up his robe. "The men were hoping for a hunt today but there is time yet."

"A moment, husband," You rose and pulled on the robe. 

He retreated and you went to the bath chamber to wash between your legs. The water was cool but soothing. You closed your robe and swept back through, fighting not to show how sore you were.

The king sat at the round table as he rubbed his stubbled cheek. His beard was growing back fast. You sat and flinched as it sent a pang through you. You tucked your hands into your sleeves and stared at the table.

"Go on, my queen , it will be a while before our food is readied," He pushed his chair out slightly and leaned back. "Serve your king."

You swallowed dryly as you stared at him. He grinned and spread his legs so that his robe fell apart.

"Kneel for me."

You stood numbly and nearly fell to your knees. You walked on your knees to him. You kept your eyes down as you braced his legs and drew close. His hand brushed along your arm and to your face. He cradled your cheek and made you look at him.

"I was only curious as to what you'd learned, wife," He taunted. "Very much, I see."

You blinked at him and sat back on your heels. He took your hands in his and raised them to his lips as he bent.

"Take your seat. We shall eat before we begin our day."

You slipped your hands away and grabbed the table. You stood shakily. Embarrassed. Your stomach roiled to think he would debase you thus to prove his grasp upon you.

You sat again and he pulled his robe back over his lap. He watched you and you tried not to shy away. Queen in name only, you reminded yourself, queen upon his whim.

👑

As you finished your meal, rather pushed your food around the plate tentatively, the king spoke but you found it hard to listen. He didn't care much as long as the topic remained on him. You nodded dumbly and smiled when he paused. And then a rap came at the door.

Steven rose and adjusted his robe. You made to stand and retreat but he waved you down. You sat back and checked that your belt was secure. He opened the door and welcomed his guest with a smile.

"You're early," Steven boomed. "All the better. We have only these weeks of progress for our plans."

Lord Barnes stepped in and barely seemed bothered by the thinly clad king. Then he saw you. His cheek twitched. He turned away quickly and looked to Steven.

"I can come back later--"

"You are here now," The king resumed his seat and drank deeply from his goblet. "We have some left if you should like a plate."

"I've eaten, your highness," He answered as he followed reluctantly. "I should hate to intrude, or interrupt even."

"Interrupt what?" Steve smirked. "I promise my queen and I won't sate our appetites on more than these rashers."

Barnes sighed and pressed his lips together. "You don't seem the mind for business, your highness."

"Pull up the stool and let us begin before I am not," The king said tersely. "Or do you mistrust my queen?"

"Of course not, I--" Barnes stopped and turned to grab the cushioned stool a few feet away. He sat and kept his eyes to the king. "You read the letter?"

"At least thrice," Steven answered. "We will end our progress early upon our visit to Edward's estate and then we can port at Shell's Harth and make our voyage to Asgard from there."

You bristled at the mention of the maritime city. What had been your last hope. That which the man who now sat prickly beside you had stolen.

"And you do not worry… that the country might not welcome the man who did see their princess executed?" Barnes ventured.

"The cardinals passed the sentence, Not I," Steven shrugged.

"And the queen you replaced her with?"

"A queen nonetheless." Steven assured. "Why? Do you worry for my queen so?"

"I only worry for our people," Barnes countered. "I should hate to offend a powerful land such as Asgard."

"They did consent to the ruling. I see no issue to be had. Do you?" Steven stared at the noble.

Lord Barnes tilted his head slightly and smiled. It was dry and hard-fought. “No,” He said thinly. “I only do my duty as your adviser and your friend.” He peeked at you from the corner of his eye. “As your queen does her duty and you do yours.”

“Always so loyal, Buck,” The king praised. “You certain you wouldn’t like a rasher? A boiled egg?”

“I have little appetite.” Barnes replied.

You slowly stood and clutched the front of your robe to keep it from drooping. “My king, I think I should go change for our discussion.”

“Nonsense, you are modest enough,” He pointed to your chair. “There is nothing I see which should heed the time needed for such.”

You lowered yourself back to the chair and let out a shaky breath. The king barely seemed to notice as he leaned on his arm. His other hand glossed over his lap and you didn’t miss the twitch. You prayed the nobleman hadn’t noticed. The way he stared ahead sternly, you wondered if he saw anything but his own irritation.

“King Thor did invite us to Asgard, not the other way around,” Steven declared. “I should think a greater insult would be to deny him. And to have my new queen introduced alongside me cannot be a greater opportunity for the realm.”

“I worry we do not have the time to prepare,” Barnes replied. “I know it can be done but to arrange the ships by autumn and all that would be required will be most taxing. Wouldn’t you rather make the voyage so that we might arrive in our best light?”

“If you know it can be done, do it,” The king said. “I’d rather have it done with and be back to my people by next spring.”

“Very well,” Barnes nodded and picked at his cuff. “Is that all?”

“Hmm,” Steven trailed his fingers along his chin. “I suppose… well, there was one other matter.”

“Are we to change our route again for this progress?” Barnes wondered.

“No, not again,” Steven smiled as he felt his stubble. “It is a matter of confidence… between the three of us.”

Barnes looked between you. His brow wrinkled as he shook his head at the king. “I don’t understand. I won’t say a word of Asgard until we are able to secure the vessels and I receive confirmation from the king.”

“I speak of a different matter.” Steven dropped his hand and played with the silk along his knee. “What you witnessed during the coronation feast… our little… tryst you stumbled upon.”

“I don’t--” Barnes blanched as he shook his head again.

“I did hear footsteps and it did occur to me who it must be as it was not long before that I did meet you previously in the corridor.” The king seemed all too pleased to make his closest friend squirm. And you too. “And while I have little concern for the people and their gossip, I should hope you wouldn’t repeat what you saw to another. Perhaps in hopes of defaming my new queen.”

“I have no such intent.” Barnes said. “I shall forget I ever saw it.”

You fidgeted in your chair. You could barely hold your head up as your cheeks burned. He had known and carried on. _And_ he hadn’t said a word. _Had he gotten off on the intrusion?_ There was little that did not arouse him.

“See that you do forget it,” The king warned. “Now, we are done.”

“Your highness,” Barnes stood and bowed, turned to you, and repeated himself.

He marched awkwardly to the door. With each step, he went faster and disappeared swiftly into the hall. The door clattered behind him and left you in silence. You looked to Steven as he stared at you across the table.

“You saw him,” He said. “Why didn’t you say anything?”

“I… was embarrassed, my king, and I did try to stop you but--”

“But you said nothing.” He insisted.

“I was… scared. My king, I know that I should have but I was unsure how to say it.” You slid forward on your seat as you beseeched him. “Are you angry with me?”

“Angry? No.” He was still smiling. “Because, my wife, I know you to be loyal and honorable to a fault. Isn’t that so?”

“Yes, yes,” You stood and whisked across to him. You took his hand in yours and kissed it. “My king, did I not save my virtue for you? Did I not swear myself to you? Did I not wait for you as you did for me?”

“You did, yes,” He turned his hand over and grabbed yours. He drew you between his legs as he looked up at you. He pulled you down into his lap and played with the silk trim of your robe. “It is not you who concerns me, my wife.”


	30. Chapter 30

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This Chapter: The king has some fun.
> 
> Warnings: dark elements, dub/noncon (fingering)
> 
> This is dark!(king)Steve and explicit. 18+ only.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, it’s me again. I wrote this chapter after work in the brief interlude between soul crushing shifts. Hope you enjoy.<3 
> 
> Let me know what you think with a comment! Love ya!

After Priskham, the progress continued to Lord Stark's lair at the Iron Tower and continued on to Lord Barnes's hold of Brooks's End. The castle had been abandoned for two centuries before him as its former family had been extinguished for their part in a plot against the Rogers' Dynasty in Western Uprisings. You suspected its history loomed in the mind of its current keeper.

The king was as diligent as ever but since your first night upon progress, you had done better to let him his desires. You didn't dare pretend at sleep again and when he made a request, you took it as an order. And Barnes, well you avoided him as you could, for his sake and yours. Not that he would look at or talk to you.

To mark the first full day in Brook’s End, Barnes arranged a feast. The wild boar, for which the locale was famous for, was served roasted with a medley of vegetables, and endless wine and ale. The king had a hand in the event; he bid that Barnes take a seat of honour upon the dais for his efforts. Steven sat in the middle and you were thankful to have him as a barrier.

You sat quietly as you ate. You didn’t have energy for much else. Travel, the king, the court; it all piled up. You listened instead as you awaited dessert, eager to retire for the night. There was to be no dancing as no band could be acquired but there was little outcry at the announcement.

“A final stop at Drissot and we can make for Shell’s Harth.” The king said gaily. “Asgard does seem most eager to have us and I’ve never the pleasure of visiting, even when that witch was alive.”

“King Thor did write of a tournament. Do you think it wise to partake?” Barnes asked dully as he rubbed his finger along the rim of his goblet. “It could be a scheme. A pointed lance could be easily disguised or a sword conveniently confused.” 

“Always so paranoid, my lord,” Steven teased. “Besides, it might have been a few years since my last, but when have I ever been felled at a tourney?”

“Never, your highness,” Barnes answered. “But that was among your own people.”

“I would be more concerned with a taster to guard my plate,” Steve countered. “And my queen’s.”

The king reached blindly to you and ran his hand over your skirts. He didn’t look away from Barnes as he gripped your leg through the fabric. You swallowed and looked down at his hand. He didn’t rescind it as he continued to talk.

“Wouldn’t you agree?”

“Surely,” Barnes answered with a cough. “I was thinking… we might send an ambassador ahead of us. He shall need a party as well to see him safe. Perhaps a mole or two…” He paused and you felt the shift in your hem; the king’s fingers on your thigh as he gathered your skirt slowly. “To attain a preview of the Asgardian court?”

“Hmmm,” Steven said thoughtfully. He carried on tugging your skirt up, up, up, until it was past your knee. You tried to catch the hem and he yanked it sharply. A warning. “I suppose it wouldn’t be ridiculous.”

You stared at the king’s hand as it moved. You followed the brocade along his arm and tried to glance his expression as he kept his face to his companion. The tables below were unable to see past the long cloth hung over yours; the crest of the king beside that of Brook’s End. Steven slipped his hand past the satin and Barnes cleared his throat.

“And we should, uh…” Barnes’ voice was stunted and looked at each other. His gaze sent a thrill through you as his eyes rounded. He blinked and gulped and turned his attention to his goblet. “We should, um, keep an eye on his brother as well. Prince Loki is known for his spies; for having his ear… to the, uh… to the ground most anywhere he treads.”

“Oh, yes, I was not keen on the rodent.” Steven snarled. 

The king shoved his hand up until it met your vee. You squeezed your thighs around him and he pinched you sharply. You squeaked as he forced your legs back apart. He began to rub you with two fingers. You gritted your teeth and tried not to show your discomfort to the people.

Barnes was silent. He emptied his cup and placed it on the table with a hollow clunk. Steven did not relent. The nobleman sighed and shifted in his chair.

“Your highness,” He hissed. “I do not think this… appropriate.”

“Why, this is my feast, is it not? You did declare in my honour?” Steven taunted. “And I find myself rather bored without a band and so I must entertain myself.”

“Then do excuse me,” Barnes insisted as he made to rise.

“No, you shall stay. We are not done talking,” Steven purred as he swirled his fingers and you gasped. You grabbed the side of your chair and pressed yourself to the tall backrest. 

“Please, Steven, she is your queen. You would humiliate her in front of her own court.” Barnes remanded. “Is that the only reason you sought to wed her? To spite her for her denial?”

“Denial? She is mine,” Steven chuckled. “Look at her. She’s trembling, isn’t she? Always so receptive.”

“Don’t do this,” Barnes’ whispered. 

“Who can see but you?” Steven challenged. “I do wonder why it should disturb you so. You did not protest when it was Rose you brought to me. When you did see her to my chambers. Or the one before that… Was it Laura? Lana? Even when it was Eleanor, you did not flinch.”

Barnes’ nostrils flared and he gulped. He reached for his goblet again and found it empty. Then he grabbed the ewer and swore as he found it dry as well. He tossed it back on the table and sat back heavily. He crossed his arms and glared at the king.

“Don’t look at me, look at her,” The king ordered. “Look at that face. Do her lashes flutter? Her eyes roll back? She bites down and you can hear her breathing through her teeth. And she is wet. I can slip inside…” He paused as he pushed his fingers past your entrance and his palm against your clit. “So easily.”

“Steven…” You begged as you touched his wrist. “Please…”

“Do you think she begs me to stop or to cum?” Steven looked to you with a smirk. “Do you think it matters?” He turned back to Barnes. “She is my wife, my queen; mine to do with as I please.”

“Why are you doing this?” Barnes growled.

“Because I can.” The king sneered as his fingers worked faster inside of you. “Because, my lord, I want you to recall this whenever your eyes stray to her; whenever they linger on her as they are want to do; whenever you have those lewd little thoughts that do darken your eyes so.”

Your hands went to the table as you clutched the wood. You struggled not to cry out as you leaned forward into his hand without thinking. Your feet arched in your slippers and the crowd blurred in your vision; a streak of colours and voices. You shook your head as the ripples began to spread along your flesh. As the familiar prick started in your core.

“So watch, my lord, and remember who is king and who is subject,” Steven spat. “Who holds power over…” He paused as you spasmed. You sat back enough to cause the chair to wobble and held in a sob as you came. “Who.”

He slipped his fingers out of you as you tried to steady your breath. He lifted his hand to the light and admired the glisten before he licked them. Your head spun as your eyes found Barnes through the haze; he was livid and pale. His nails were sunk into the arms of his chair and his jaw was squared.

“I have never forgotten, your highness,” He said.

“Good,” Steven smirked and tugged your skirts back down over your legs until it fell upon its own weight. “See that you don’t.” He sat up and glanced around the chamber. “Shall I call for more wine?”

👑 

You were to be at Brook’s End for a week. Three days in and you found the place unbearable. The king made it thus. He wouldn’t stop fucking you until you were screaming and he hadn’t grown any subtler in the presence of his host. Only half a week before you set out to the final stop upon your tour; until you would be on your way to your sister.

That day, you spent apart from the king. You and your ladies read from a poetry book, explored the east wing where portraits hung along the walls, and attended your prayers and meals together. For a time, you forgot the king and his favoured lord; although you wondered if his preference was very fervent anymore.

And then you were to return to your husband. You lingered with Marion in the corridors but knew you could forever. You clung to her as she bid you farewell and watched her go. Your guard was silent as you led him through the halls. You hated his thin, unmoving lips and his bushy brows. You missed Dolan. And Marion. _Should you mourn them too?_

You stood outside your doors for a moment. You looked over to the guard as he took his place opposite the king’s. They didn’t seem to notice you. As you stepped forward, they opened the doors for you and you stepped inside. The king was there, at his desk. He didn’t lift his head as you entered.

“My queen,” He said as he finished scratching his nib across the parchment. “I’ve been awaiting you.”

“My apologies, I did find myself prolonged by Lady Marion,” You lied. “How was your day, husband?”

“Fine enough,” He sat up and set his pen down. “And you, wife?”

“Fine, as well,” You neared the other side of his desk. “Though I do tire.”

“I should hope you aren’t very tired,” He stood and you fought not to wince as he rounded the desk. “I had it in mind that we might play a game.”

“A game?” You repeated. “What do you mean?”

“Cards? Do you know ‘Horses’, or prehaps ‘Lances’?” He asked and you blinked in surprise.

“Uh, yes, of course,” You smiled and for a moment he was silent. He looked down at you as he touched your cheek.

“Then you choose and we shall play,” He bent and pecked your lips. “First I should like a change of clothes.”

“I suppose I would too,” You said. “I like a challenge so I think Horses should do.” 

You followed him to the bed chamber. There was a flutter in your chest. True excitement alongside a sense of relief. You always played cards with your sister; you weren’t very competitive but you enjoyed the past time.

“Horses it is,” He agreed.

He loosened your laces for you and his hands did not wander. You were further surprised. You let the silk fall down your arms and undressed with a sigh. You pulled a robe over your shift and looked up at Steven. He pushed his hair back and stretched; his own robe hung open over a pair of shorts.

“I have set the cards out already,” He said. “You may deal as I pour the wine.”

“You know I do not drink very much wine,” You replied. “Is there water? Milk?”

“The wine is part of the game.” He led you to the table and waited for you to sit before he did. “For each round, the loser will drink.”

“Oh,” You took the deck of cards as he pulled the pair of goblets towards him and filled each with the dark wine. “Hm, well then I suppose I should want to win even more.”

“I wish you luck,” He slid a cup towards you. “So, let us begin.” You dealt six cards to each of you and set the deck in the middle. “Shall I draw first or you?”

“I should allow you the pleasure,” You sorted your cards by suit and waited for him to start.

It was promising at first. You each flicked your cards down one at a time and while you were not winning, you were not losing either. An even match until the last was laid down. The king cried out Horses and you shook your head. A sneaky move but not illegal.

“Drink,” He urged.

You exhaled and took your cup. “To your victory,” You raised it and drank. 

As you set it back down, he tutted. “You must finish.”

You lifted your brow but he did not waver. You lifted your goblet again and gulped deeply. You nearly choked as you emptied it and as you replaced it on the table, your vision swam just a little. He poured you another glass and shuffled the deck. He slid them to you and let you deal again.

And you lost. Again. You huffed and looked into your cup. It was quite a bit of wine. He laughed and gathered up the cards. “My dear, it is only your second cup.”

“I told you, wine does not agree with me.” You pleaded.

“You might still catch up,” He gloated. “Shall I deal this time?”

“As you wish,” You grumbled as you took your cup again. 

The wine was sweeter and easier to swallow but it had a more potent effect. He filled your cup again and you held in a belch. He doled out the cards and you swept up your hand and almost fumbled them. He let you draw first this time and you groaned. Not a good start. He flicked his first card down and you yours. You tossed each onto the pile in quick succession and you were ready to celebrate until that last card. The same trick.

“Lord!” You exclaimed as you threw up your hands. “You must cheat, my king.”

“I did change so that you would not suspect cards up my sleeves,” He held out his arms as his robe hung loosely from them. “And I haven’t anywhere else to conceal them.” He reached to nudge your goblet closer to you. “Do not be a sore loser.”

“I am not… sore.” You argued and grabbed the cup. “Next game.”

You drained the cup, a little dribbled down your chin, and slammed the cup back down. You felt bubbly and wobbly. You leaned on the table to steady yourself. The king dealt the cards and you took them clumsily. You had to win this time.

“How about this. For each card, I will ask you a question for each card and you may ask me one?”

“Ask you what?” You said through thick lips.

“Anything you wish. Shall I draw?”

“Go ahead.” You waved your fingers at him.

He drew and flopped the card down. “First question; I know you to be innocent before we wed, but did you ever kiss another before me?”

“What?” You scoffed. “N-no. Who would I kiss?”

“Is that your question?” He asked.

“No,” You laid down your card. “Why… did you choose cards for tonight?”

“Because they are simple and everything else is so complicated.” He answered. “And… I don’t know. You make me feel… young again.”

“You’re not old,” You chided. “Wait… are you?”

“Not your turn,” He warned and slapped his card down. “Did you ever fancy anyone before me?”

“Fancy? I… my king, why do you ask these things?”

“It is only a game,” He intoned. “I am curious. So answer me.”

“Not truly, I think,” You played with the corner of a card. “I suppose I did know which men were… handsome.”

“Oh, naughty,” He smirked. “Go on.”

You played your card. You licked your lips and thought of another question. “Do you cheat at Horses?”

“No, but I did not warn you of my skill,” He grinned and his card was added to the stack. “And did you list Lord Barnes among these handsome men?”

Your face was hot. Not just from the wine but from his question. Your mouth was acrid as you opened it. Your voice caught in your throat. You swallowed and found it at last. “My king…”

“Your honesty will not rile me,” He leaned an arm on the table, “But your dishonesty should.”

You stared at him. The edges of your vision were fuzzy and your eyelids were heavy. “He is not unattractive.” You answered.

You didn’t look at your cards as you placed the next. Your voice quavered. “Why the wine?”

“To soften you.” He admitted. “To weaken you.”

“And these questions?” You prodded.

“Not your turn.” He set down his card. The king. “When I did make you cum before him, did you imagine it was him touching you?”

You frowned. You reached to your goblet. He hadn’t refilled it yet. “I do not want to play this anymore.”

“It is too late to forfeit. Now, I did play my card.” He stared at you; his blue eyes unwavering. “I told you, your honesty cannot offend me.”

You pressed your lips together and touched your cheek. You nodded. “Only…” Your voice was brittle. “Only for a moment.”

He sat back and waited. You took your turn. You stared at the table in shame. “I have no question. You may ask yours…” You looked up slowly. “For I know this was a trick indeed.”

“I do not ask to entrap you, my queen,” He slipped a card onto the table. “Because I do trust you. I ask because I am curious. I ask because I know your character. And I know his.”

“And you distrust him?” You set your cards down and touched your temples as the wine seeped into your brain.

“I… don’t know,” He said flatly. “You are drunk, wife.”

“I am,” You grumbled as you slumped and held your head.

“Then let us finish our game,” He pointed to your cards upon the table. “And I will see you to bed.”


	31. Chapter 31

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This Chapter: The reader tries to cope.
> 
> Warnings: dark elements, dub/noncon (sexy sex sex)
> 
> This is dark!(king)Steve and explicit. 18+ only.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is late because I had a terrible migraine but I managed to do this! So yeah :) Hope you enjoy.<3
> 
> Let me know what you think with a comment! Love ya!

It was your second to last day in Brook’s End. The chapel flickered in eerie candlelight as you knelt among the empty pews. It was your little secret; a trick of your own. You’d found that the king, nor anyone else, questioned your piety. None wondered after your private prayers or sought to disturb you. When you discovered that this castle had an altar of its own, you declared it a momentary refuge.

You were due to return to your husband shortly. You’d sent word that you would be in the private See for a time. You would savour those few moments of solitary; of serenity. You had forgotten the subtlety, the simplicity, of being alone. Your prayers were recited quickly but you remained on your knees.

You closed your eyes and thought. You would set out soon for Drissot, your sister’s marital home. Your heart danced at the prospect and you smiled against your folded hands. And you would meet your nephew; Edwin. Her last letter shared your excitement. She wrote of how lonely the manse had grown; of her anticipation for your arrival; her little japes about your new status. She’d even signed it “your loyal subject”. The paper was nestled in your pocket; a comfort to you throughout the long days.

You were jolted from your fantasies by the door. It wasn’t unusual to be interrupted and in the last few days, you’d found yourself across the aisle from another worshipper or accompanied by a servant scattering rushes along the floor. You didn’t look but instead stared up at the candlelit apse. You prayed again; for safe travel; for fortune and health; selfishly for yourself.

The footsteps neared and you were surprised and disappointed when they did not continue past you. You looked up at last and found a broad shadow walking slowly along your pew. You blinked as it turned and knelt beside you. Lord Barnes’ profile was limned in the low light and his blue eyes sparkled up at the holy basin that stood central to the chapel.

“Lord Barnes,” You greeted with a nod and made to stand.

“Your highness,” He returned. “Please, a moment? If you would allow me that.”

You paused, legs bent awkwardly below you as you considered him. He folded his hands and kept his gaze forward. You saw a nervousness in him which rarely broke his cool facade. You frowned and lowered yourself back to your knees. He took a deep breath and rested his head against his knuckles.

“I would beg your forgiveness but I do not expect it,” He began in a low voice. “For I have wronged you repeatedly but treated you as the sinner. And in my selfishness, I have caused your unhappiness; your shame; your pain.” He shook his head just a little. “And I am sorry for it completely.”

You stayed silent as you considered him. His dark hair was twisted back into a bun and a few strands framed his face. The lines along his eyes and forehead were thickened in the gloom. He slowly raised his head but kept his eyes forward.

“I am sorry for what I said to you for I did lie but more, I did say it to hurt you; to insult you, when you do not deserve my anger. When you do not deserve that distaste I have for myself.” He gripped his hands tighter. “That I did blame you for the circumstance that I, among several others, have thrust upon you. I do confess this at the altar to have my crimes laid out not just before my queen but before my lord. I am more sorry than you could ever know. Than I could ever express.”

Your mouth was dry as you stared at him. You fidgeted and turned to lean your head against your hands. You were unsure what to say. He was repentant, surely, but could he atone for all that he had caused?

“Is that what it took?” You asked shyly. “Hmm? For him to do… that?”

“I never thought--” He sniffed. “It doesn’t matter what I thought, I know what he’s become capable of. And it was entirely my fault. It is all _my_ fault.” You glanced over at him as he shook his head and his hands fell. “I did drag you back to marry him, which has been in my life, my greatest regret.”

“My lord, please don’t--” You raised your head.

“No,” He turned to you, “I must. I cannot think of anything but that day. Of how I should have taken you and run. I could have seen you away; out of the country, across the world, the two of us.”

“No, please,” You breathed. “You cannot say this.”

“Would you… have come with me, if I had?” He asked.

You felt as if you’d been slapped. He stared at you as he awaited your answer. You could see his anxiety. His chest rose and fell as his eyes bore into you.

“Does it matter now?”

“I suppose it doesn’t but nothing can change how I feel,” He confessed. “My queen…”

“Don’t say it, please.” You begged. “Please, I cannot-- I suffer already.”

“I love you,” He blurted out as he grabbed your hands. “And I know this will do you little favour but I do and I must admit it.”

“No…” You gasped. “You would curse us both.”

“Tell him what I said,” He insisted. “For I would rather die than keep it a secret.”

“And what am I to do? Watch you die?” You hung your head as tears threatened. “You know I cannot do that.”

The chapel was quiet as he clung to you. He lifted your hands to his lips and kissed your knuckles softly. You trembled but could not pull away.

“Do you love me too?” He asked.

“Lord--”

“Bucky, please, call me Bucky.” He intoned.

“Bucky,” You looked up slowly. “You know I cannot say it.”

“But you do,” He squeezed your hands as he shifted closer. “I see it. I feel it.” He let go of your hands and reached to cradle your face. Your vision blurred with tears. “My regret does eat away at me and I do lament that I never did say it sooner.” He was closer still, his warm breath upon you. “Or that I never did this.”

He pulled you to him and pressed his lips to yours. You shivered as a force so overwhelming flowed through you and for a moment, you forgot where you were and what you were. You weren’t the king’s wife, you weren’t queen, you were just a woman, and you were loved. And then you did and you were startled. You pressed against his chest until he pulled away.

“Why did you do that?” You quavered.

He just stared at you and your fingers bent to grip the front of his jacket. This time you pulled him to you; hungry for the same thrill. You slipped your arms around him and he hugged you against him. You nearly fell over as you were swept up in the heat. You kissed him until you were out of breath and then you pushed him away again.

You covered your mouth in horror and tore your eyes away from him. You dropped your face into your hands and whimpered. 

“It’s wrong.” You gulped. “It’s wrong.”

“But you feel it…” He touched your arm and you pulled away.

“A feeling cannot change our circumstance, sir,” You lifted your head. “We know that and it can only make it worse should we chase it.”

He nodded and closed his eyes. He mirrored the same helplessness you felt. He stood slowly and offered his hand. You took it and let him pull you up. When he opened his eyes, they glistened. He tried to smile but his lips merely trembled.

“You are right, my queen,” He said. “And I would not forsake you death for my foolishness, but I should offer you my loyalty as a friend. I should offer you my sword should it come to it. For if I ever hear that he should hurt you, I will not hesitate.”

“That is treason,” You hissed. “Do not speak as such.”

“Treason? Why, I do declare my devotion to my queen.” He bent and kissed your hand. “When so many do plot against her.” He stood and looked at you a moment. “I do apologize for interrupting your prayers. I shall leave you as you were… to reflect in peace.”

He let go of you and bowed. You watched him go as your heart beat wildly and his shadow disappeared up the dark aisle and through the door with a deafening click. You turned and sunk down onto the pew. You stared up at the large marble basin as it sparkled with water, coin, and petals; you would add another piece of gold for your atonement, though you suspected it would do little to cleanse your soul.

👑

When you returned to your chamber, the king was as he was nights before. He was bent over his desk as he scratched a nib on parchment. He didn’t look up as you entered and you were glad for it; convinced he should see your guilt upon your face. You greeted him quietly and he echoed you distantly as he continued on. You let him be and sent for Rita to help you out of your gown.

Steven still didn’t stir as the maid came and undressed you. She was as stone-faced as always and her pointed nose seemed to crinkle at you in distaste. You’d learned to ignore her quiet disgust for all around her. You wondered how a woman of her ilk could ever lower herself to serve such a despicable court. You dismissed her and she left with a grumble.

You crossed your arms as you watched her go and huffed. You remained in your thin shift and waited for the door to open and close before you returned to the receiving chamber. The king was barely disturbed by the maid’s departure and as you sat in the chair across from him, he remained intent upon his work. 

“My king,” You said quietly. “Might I interrupt you for a moment?”

His hand stopped and he looked up. He winced as if he had just awoken and sat back as he placed his pen aside. He smiled as he rubbed his cheek. His beard was thicker by the day, if not the second.

“I did wonder if you did eat,” You asked as you picked at the arm of the chair nervously. You wanted to convince him, as much as yourself, that all was normal. “I can send for a plate.”

“I did,” He assured you, “And yourself, my wife?”

“I did,” You lied. You had little appetite. “What is it that keeps you so busy?”

He tilted his head and his brows drew together. “Are you really so curious or do you merely wish to distract me?”

“If I do distract you, I will retreat,” You replied. “But yes, I do wonder. I am a queen and yet I feel little more than the lady I was.”

“You do not distract,” He smiled and patted his leg, “Come here and I shall show you.”

You stood and crossed to him. He pulled you down onto his lap and wrapped his arm around your waist as he leaned against you. He reached for the parchment with his other hand as his beard tickled your cheek. He held a list of scribble, beneath lay a map, and he inhaled your scent before he began.

“When we are to travel to Asgard, I shall seal the transference of The Beak to their prince. They have sent a preliminary contract but I make notes upon it for our final negotiations.” He pointed to a paragraph. “You see, they would take The Beak but we would keep our mines along the eastern border, but I should like the small villages as well as they do provide a variety of commodities. Though if I do wish that, I would offer a subsidy to Asgard to appease them.”

You nodded and squinted at his small notes in the margins. It was simple enough to understand that each king should want profit from the deal even if it had already secured the downfall of a queen.

“But if you were to attain these terms, to assure that they are met, would you not require some presence there? Perhaps an ambassador or even military?” You asked.

You felt him shift beneath you and he lowered his hand to your thigh. “Of course,” He squeezed. “My queen, you do betray an unhoned aptitude for this.”

“Well, I should think ink would have little power of enforcement,” You shrugged. “Though there is much still I need to learn.” You turned slightly in his lap so you could face him. He let the parchment fall back. “Shouldn’t I know these things before we do depart for this foreign realm?”

“I suppose you should.” He agreed. “Perhaps a tutor? Or I might have you attend council if you wish? Would you the time to do so?”

“I hardly need to guide my ladies in their sewing.” You answered. 

“Though as I recall you are quite gifted with your hands,” He took your hand and rubbed his fingers over yours. “I do wonder at this sudden curiosity?”

“Boredom,” You answered. “Restlessness. I tire of sewing circles and poetry. I…” You tried not to think of the chapel; of his closest man against you. You pushed down the guilt and smiled at him. “Some look at me as little more than an earl’s daughter still and I should like to prove myself; to you, most of all.”

“You needn’t prove yourself to me,” His hand ventured up your bare arm and played with the collar of your shift. “Are you certain you did not mean to distract me?”

“It is not difficult to do so,” You teased. His fingers felt cold as you thought of Lord Barnes and his warmth. _Go away! Don’t think of it._

“I do not mind it so much,” He pulled at the tie along the front of your shift until it fell loose. 

You smiled at him and shook as he cupped your chest and pushed his face against you with a purr. You were stiff against him; as the first night he’d had you. Shy; afraid. You wondered if he would sense it. If he would know.

“Don’t mind it at all,” He hummed. He pulled your shift down to uncover your breast and took your nipple in his mouth. You gasped.

You reached up and grabbed his head as you pulled him closer if only to steady yourself. He continued to tease you with his tongue and you closed your eyes. That little tickle was so dull; so deep down it was little more than a glimmer. He’d surely know as his touch barely riled you.

And then you thought of the chapel and your core bloomed. You let yourself imagine that the king’s lips were Bucky’s. That the prod beneath you was his too. That the hand slipping between your thighs belonged to a lord and not your husband. You moaned and he pulled away suddenly. You opened your eyes and gaped at him.

“Why, my wife, I think you did plot to draw my attention, didn’t you?” He cooed.

You breathed, relieved that he had not caught you out. He took it as encouragement as he slipped his arm beneath your knees and scooped you up. He turned you sat you on his desk. The parchment crushed beneath you as he bent to resume his task. He pulled your shift down until your breasts were entirely bare and your arms were trapped at your sides.

You closed your eyes again and returned to the pews. The lips along your neck, your chest, your stomach, lower and lower. And when Steven bent before you, it wasn’t him. You giggled as the tickle along your thighs and sighed as a coolness met your hot sex. And as the tongue delved deeper you pressed your legs around the king’s head in delight.

He swirled and suckled. Intense and intent. Rougher than you thought it’d truly be with the nobleman but it hardly mattered as you were swept away by the fantasy. And the rise was so sharp that you did fall swiftly from the edge. You writhed atop the desk as the king dug his fingers into your crumpled shift. You came with a sharp cry and clapped your hand over your mouth before you could evoke the name of the man you truly desired.

You opened your eyes as the king rose but you were in such a haze, his figure did not appear as it was. You were still in your head as he unlaced his pants and stroked himself eagerly. He gripped your hips and pulled you closer as the papers crinkled beneath you. He entered you to his hilt. You squealed and bared your teeth.

“My queen,” He groaned as he began to thrust. “You do serve me well.”

He was impatient; unwavering. He slammed into you over and over. You knew it was not like it would be. Bucky could never hurt you like this. And yet it was delicious. You closed your eyes and arched your back as you clung to the image of him. The shadows across his face, the feel of his lips against yours, the layers of fabric the only barrier between you in that moment. 

_Oh, how you should have let him have you._

You were torn back to your reality again. Steven grunted as he plunged into you over and over. He held you by your hips, his nails cutting into your flesh, as his pelvis clapped against yours. You gripped the edge of the desk as your body slid back and forth upon the the cluttered surface.

The king’s face was sinister as he watched his cock slide in and out of you. His eyes were dilated and dark. His beard lent a dire shadow to his jawline and his hair fell forward over his forehead as his nose was limned in lantern light. You bent your legs around him as you felt as you were pulled further over the edge of the desk.

His rhythm turned erratic and he thrust into you so harshly you cried out. You feigned pleasure though it hurt. Though you could not summon the face of another and were trapped in what was. When he came, you mimicked his peak so that he would not persist. He spent himself entirely and slowed to bury himself in you completely. He sighed and pushed back his sweaty hair.

“I could stay like this forever, my wife,” He bent over you and slid his arms beneath you. He lifted you, careful not to fall out of you, and sat back down on his chair with you atop him. He nuzzled your neck as he wrapped you in his arms. “But this night will do well enough.”


	32. Chapter 32

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This Chapter: The reader must turn the tables.
> 
> Warnings: dark elements, dub/noncon (death, blood)
> 
> This is dark!(king)Steve and explicit. 18+ only.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alrighty, so I’m pretty sure this is the second last chapter and I know y’all don’t want it to end but I’ve figured it out and I’m gonna tie it up as neatly as it can. Thanks for reading and supporting this adventure. Hope you enjoy.<3
> 
> Let me know what you think with a comment! Love ya!

The last day in Brook’s End. A rare summer storm poured down on the castle. You watched the rain from your window as you sat in the stone frame. You had spent much of the day with your ladies. It was the usual tedium of needles and gossip though you could barely focus as your mind slipped back to the chapel; to Bucky’s lips; to the king’s desk. 

You excused yourself early that afternoon. The downpour had brought with it a headache and a particular churning in your stomach which just wouldn’t relent. It could as easily be the stress. Your night was as sleepless as any but not because of the king, but for your own guilt. And so you were exhausted and yawning into your hand as the sun descended behind the clouds.

The door of the receiving chamber opened and closed. You let a leg slip from the stone ledge as you turned. Light footsteps, much unlike those of the king which you had learned so well. Rita appeared in the door of the bedroom and she saw you at your perch. You greeted her but received the same stony silence as usual.

“You are early for your evening duties,” You said as you leaned upon the sill. “Might you come back shortly when I am more inclined to retire?”

“You had plans, your highness?” She wondered as she raised her nose to you. “Perhaps your prayers do await you in the chapel…” She smiled. The first you had seen upon her thin lips and it was revolting. “Or another?”

“I have attended my prayers for the day, though I see not why you should be concerned,” You stood and clutched your skirts tightly. “Rita, I do warn you, I tire of your petulance.”

“And I of yours.” She countered. “I do watch you flaunt your sin before the court. I see your conduct behind the king’s back and how it does change when he is around. I do remember the queen before you and the fate she did meet upon your dalliance with her husband.”

“Be that as it may,” You kept your voice firm. “I am still your queen now so I do expect a degree of respect.”

“What shall I respect in you, your highness? That you should marry a king you do not love and then cry to your mother like the child you are? Or that you would meet with his own man in the chapel and commit your sins before the lord himself?” She bared her teeth like a snake ready to bite.

You swallowed and glared at her. You moved away from the window, closer to her. She was taller but you did not fear her. Could not if you meant to prevail. 

“And what proof do you have of your treasonous accusations?” You hissed.

“My ears. My honesty. My loyal duty to the king for this last decade as his own mole.” She gloated. 

“If he does trust you, then why haven’t you told him already?” You demanded. “Hmm? Did you hope something of me? Gold? A title?”

“My only wish is to see you fall as you did topple another,” She snarled. “I do wish to attend your execution and watch you bleed for your treacherous and repulsive crimes.”

“And so you do intend upon unveiling these revelations to him when? Tonight?” You neared her still. “And I do wonder if your faith in him is well-placed for I think he might believe his own queen above a bitter old servant.”

“I believe the king to be proud and discerning. As much as he might let himself be fooled by you, he does retain a sliver of intelligence.” She scowled. “And your own lies have never been so convincing, have they?”

“Then let us wait for him and I shall listen to you tell him,” You challenged as your stomach threatened to flip. You had less faith than her but you would not wilt from your fate. If this maid would try her hand, you would at least attempt to swat it away. “And I shall see him dismiss you for your falsehoods.”

She smirked as she stared down at you. You raised a brow and for a moment you were in another time. It was Eleanor stood across from you, her eyes burning into you. The same detest there; the same disgust. You were still the pretender but it was plain to see, you were surrounded by the like.

“So sit,” You said with a forced smile, “The king shall return soon enough and I am so eager for him to hear you.”

“As am I,” She backed away and lowered herself into the armchair. “My lady.”

“Your highness,” You corrected her as you wandered back to the window. “Until he does decide upon that title’s veracity.”

You inhaled as you looked out across the muddy yard. Your lungs burned as if you’d been running and your heart threatened to shatter. You felt as if you would retch and you touched your stomach. Your head pulsed and you reached to touch it as the thoughts flurried with the wind.

 _What would the king think? Would he believe her? Was she truly his mole?_ After your attempt at flight, you wouldn’t be surprised that he would replace your maid with one more loyal to himself. _So then why had she waited to reveal that you did not love him? Did she plot to entrap you first?_ You shuddered and turned away from the window.

You paced to the bed and then around it. You neared the chest that had only been partly unpacked. All the better as it would be loaded again on the morrow. The king hadn’t allowed it to be emptied as he had been as impatient as ever to have you. 

You peered down into it; several of his shirts were tossed carelessly over the contents from nights past. Ledgers below and a golden box of his jewels. You bent and flipped over the smaller chest within. His many rings, his, pins, his chains; they caught the light and sparkled back like a dozen eyes. 

There was something else beneath them. Duller. Silver wrapped in leather with smaller flecks of topaz along the rear bolster. The dagger was small but sharp. You reached within and pushed past the gold and gems atop it. You heard the door again and your fingers wrapped around the hilt.

You stood and hid it behind your back as Rita went rigid in her chair. You turned to her and smiled nervously. She stood. Your heart stuttered.

“We will wait for him in here,” You said shakily as you neared her. “Do not worry…” You gripped the dagger tightly. “He will appear soon enough and…”

You revealed the blade and the maid blanched. “What are you--”

You raised it to your bodice and slashed, only deep enough to cut your shift. She gaped in confusion as you came closer and brought the point across your cheek until blood began to trickle. You winced and held the knife up before her face and slid your other hand over the blade until it sliced the inside of your knuckles.

“You’re mad!” She almost yelled and you tossed the blade away to the floor.

You latched onto her and struggled as she tried to pull away. You smeared your blood across her and between your bodies. You wouldn’t let her get away as you felt the dribble along your jaw patter onto your bodice. You could hear another moving around in the receiving chamber.

“Help! Help! Someone help!” You cried out.

The footsteps stomped to the door and you saw the shadow of the king as he filled the frame. He was startled to find you entwined with the maid and you threw yourself back and fell upon your rear. You splayed across the floor helplessly.

“She has cut me!” You held your hand as the maid stood over you in shock. “My king…”

You looked to Steven as his eyes fell to the floor. He stared at the knife and stepped inside to grab it from the stone. His disbelief darkened to anger as he stood straight and looked between you and Rita.

“Call the guard,” You urged. “Call--”

“I did not! She is ma--” Rita argued shrilly.

The king marched towards the maid and grabbed her by her greying bun. He wrenched her head back to bare her throat and you watched as he lifted the knife. Time seemed to slow and speed up all at once. He dragged the silver across her neck as she let out a noiseless shriek. You watched the blood spill from her throat as she sputtered.

Steven released her and she fell forward to her knees. The life faded from her eyes as you sat up frantic. She fell forward onto your skirts, her head just between your knees as she bled onto your dress. You opened and closed your mouth as the warmth seeped into your dress. 

The king stood above you with the knife still in hand. His lip curled as he looked down at the dead woman. You couldn’t think, could only see the horror before you. His eyes met yours and he set the knife down on the table just beside the chair. 

He blinked and rounded the body to bend over you. He grabbed you under your arms and lifted you to your feet as Rita slid off of your skirts. You were shaking so bad he could barely keep hold of you. He pulled you close and pressed your head to his chest as he hugged you.

“Shhh, shhh, it’s alright. You’re alright,” He breathed. He edge you towards the door as he caressed your hair. “Shhh…” He raised his head and called over his shoulder. His voice sounded even bolder in his chest. “Guard!”

The door opened for the third time that afternoon as you head lolled against the king. He looked down at you as your legs went lip. “I...I….” You could barely breathe as your eyes rolled back and the darkness took you.

👑

When you awoke, you saw blood. It was a moment before your vision cleared and the red canopy above came into focus. You touched your stomach and swallowed back the bile that threatened to rise. There was a shadow at your bedside. He sat with a book in his lap and flicked the page lazily.

You groaned and he looked up. The balding physician raised his brows and set aside his book. He stood and neared the bed as he looked down at you. You tried to push yourself up and he stopped you with a hand in the air.

“Do not labour yourself,” He advised. “We have tended to your wounds and see little chance of infection, your highness.”

You looked down at your hand, wrapped in thick bandage, and felt along that on your cheek, the cloth wound around your head. You saw it again; the dead maid upon your skirt. Your gown had since been removed and you wore not but the stained shift beneath the pile of quilts.

Your dry lips parted and you coughed. “Please, I think---” You covered your mouth as you fought back vomit. 

“Your highness,” The physician grabbed a pail as you turned to hang your head over the mattress. 

You wretched into the wooden bucket until your entire body ached and there was nothing left within. You laid back heavily and the physician offered you water. He helped you sit up against the pillows as you drank.

“Your wounds are shallow and minimal,” He said as he played with the button on the front of his jacket. “But I did hope to ask you some questions.”

“Questions?” You echoed as water dribbled down your chin and you wiped it away.

“Yes, did you feel sick before… before the incident?” He asked.

“A little, I suppose,” You answered carefully and took another sip. “I always do feel rather poorly when it rains.”

“Mmm,” He nodded as he continued to toy with the brass bauble. “And, forgive me but there is no proper way to ask this, but it should be asked, as your physician; when was your last visit?”

“Visit?” You shook your head confused. “I don’t understand.”

“Your highness,” He pulled his jacket straight. “When did you last have your monthly bleeding?”

You tilted your head and narrowed your eyes. You thought but couldn’t remember exactly. _How had you lost track?_ You set aside the glass of water and shrugged. _Was it before or after the wedding?_ It had been a few months, surely there had been one. You raised your brows at him and gulped. Your stomach was ripe to roil again.

“I cannot recall,” You admitted.

“How many? One? Two? Three? Can you not recall how many you’ve missed?” He prodded.

You shook your head and brought your hands up to hold your head. The bandage was rough against your skin. “I’m sorry.”

“I would be required to perform an examination,” He said calmly. “To be sure of your condition.”

“My condition?” You repeated. “I...Now?”

“Ideally as soon as we could but I understand if your stress does preclude you.” He replied.

“No, n-no, I would know at once,” You stuttered. “What did you need to do?”

“It won’t take very long,” He turned and opened the small chest beside his chair. “You only need to lie back and bend your legs, your highness.” He spun back and helped draw the covers away from you. “I promise, I shall be as swift as I can.”

You nodded nervously and did as he said. It was like the examination before your marriage; a little bit of poking around, mostly looking. When he finished, you felt the same mortification. And worse, for you had caused the death of another. You had chosen your life over theirs. _How could you ever manage to grow on within?_

“Well, your highness,” He sighed. “You are with child, it seems.”

“Do you know… how long?” You asked.

“You’re not showing just yet, at least not obviously, and your sickness, when did that begin?”

“Perhaps a week past, maybe more.”

“A month. Likely more considering you cannot remember your last visit. It would be more apt to say two or three.” He said. “But you are healthy and so the child should be too. I see no cause for concern.”

“Oh, alright,” You nodded. You were numb and yet entirely overwhelmed. You wanted to go back to sleep but also wanted to run away.

“The king is without…”

“Don’t… I think… I should tell him,” You breathed. “Please.”

“Certainly, your highness,” The physician nodded and closed up his chest. “Shall I send him in?”

“Please.” You smiled but it felt more a grimace.

He left you with a bow and you watched him go. He left the door open and you only then realized you weren’t in your usual chamber. _Good,_ you thought. You’d not be able to bear to look upon the place where the maid had died. To see the blood that had no doubt stained the stone and carpet. You shook at the memory.

The king entered before you could sink entirely in your despair. He smiled at you and rushed to the bed. He sat on the edge and took your hand. “My queen. I did worry.” He said in a rush. “I don’t know what came over me, I just… I saw you in danger and it all went… awry.”

You nodded and the tears threatened to spill. You clung to his hand and squeezed. You were shaking again.

“The physician did say you were well,” He said. “And… I see that you are and it does ease the worry that has consumed me.”

“I am, I am,” You assured him. “I… your highness, my king,” You stammered and let out a weak pant. “The physician did examine me and I…” You tried to smile again and your lips quivered. The tears fell and streamed along your nose. “I am with child.”

His eyes rounded and his lips parted. His entire face brightened as it dawned upon him and he smiled. He gripped your hands even tighter and raised them. He kissed them all over, even the bandages, and then leaned over to kiss your lips. When he pulled away, he stared at you, marvelled at you.

“You really are?” He asked.

“A couple months, at least,” You said. 

You felt dizzy. You thought of Rita dead on the floor. Of Bucky in the shadows of the chapel. Of the life you wanted and the life you had. Of that nestled inside of you that did seal your fate. You lowered your head and sniffed.

He took your chin and forced you to look at him. “My love,” He spoke softly, “That is wonderful.”


	33. Chapter 33

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This Chapter: The reader says goodbye.
> 
> Warnings: dark elements, sex
> 
> This is dark!(king)Steve and Bucky, and explicit. 18+ only.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Note: So this is the end. I hope you all enjoyed having this adventure with me. It wouldn’t have been possible without you. The response was amazing and I loved all the discussion around king Thot and Lord Barnacle. Super fun! I love you all and I hope this ending lends you a little comfort... maybe I’ll find it in me to do a sequel one day or maybe we’ll just leave it at this. But I’m happy with what I’ve done and that’s good enough for me. Hope you enjoy.<3
> 
> Let me know what you think with a comment! Love ya!

That night, Steven sat by the bed but would not lay down. He was convinced there was a plot against him; against you; against his unborn child. He watched over you as you tried to sleep though your stomach and the life within you barely allowed for that. And the vision of the bloodied woman cradled in your skirts; the king standing above. _You_ had done that.

When the morning came, Steven went to his desk. You rose and dressed with the help of Lady Marion who was called to aid you. You were allowed no maid as it was thought that any could try to finish what Rita had begun. Rather, what you had begun. When she left, you went to sit with the king. You found yourself rubbing your middle; a new anxious habit, and calming as the storm roared within.

“My king,” You said at last as you watched him sneer at his pen. “Might I a moment?”

He looked up and the wrinkle left his brow. He sat back and smiled. He stared at your stomach and you pulled your hand away to the arm of the chair. You did your best to smile back. He could be amenable if you coaxed him.

“I was curious…” You paused and swallowed down the bile that threatened to rise. “My former maid… Marge… I do wonder what happened to her.”

“The… maid?” He set his pen down and scratched his chin. “Why?”

“I… was hoping, well, I trusted her and considering what has occurred I did hope to have one close who I did not suspect of… treachery.” You looked down and back up at him coyly. You touched your stomach and his eyes followed. He bit his lip and nodded. “You did not…?”

He sighed. “She was sent back to the laundries and she does remain in the capital.” He said. “You truly trust her?”

“She never wielded a blade and she did speak to me kindly. Unlike the other.” You pushed yourself up and slowly rounded the desk. “I am so lonely when you are not around.”

“You have your ladies,” He countered as you came to the side of his chair and took his hand. “We will soon be at Drissot and you will have your sister.”

“For a time.” You played with his rings as you spoke. “You haven’t forgiven me.”

“Forgiven you?”

“For running.”

“I have,” He turned his hand over and squeezed yours. “I have no reason to begrudge you. I’ll send for the maid to meet us at Drissot.”

“Truly?” You tried not to seem too eager.

“For you,” He assured. “And you will need a maid badly as you start to grow.”

“Oh, thank you, husband,” You bent and kissed his cheek. He turned and kissed your lips before you could stand straight.

“We cannot have you unhappy, it does not bode well for the child,” He pecked the back of your hand and let you go. 

You swept back around the desk, want to dance without a care for your ungainliness. You kept calm and turned back to him as you reached your chair. “I am happy,” You assured him. “I have survived.”

There was a knock upon the door before you could sit and the king looked past you. You turned as Steven called for his visitor to enter and you held onto the the chair as you watched Lord Barnes enter. He bowed and crossed to you. He took your hand and kissed it in all formality. You felt the paper against you skin and quickly tucked it up into your sleeve as you rescinded your hand.

You spun back to Steven as he welcomed his lord. 

“Barnes, you’re late.” He greeted shortly.

“Seeing to some housekeeping,” He returned as he passed you and stood before the desk. “I was not prepared to have you more than a week.”

“Yes, yes, but we cannot travel just yet.” The king dismissed.

“Of course not. An incident as such does worry us all.” Barnes affirmed. “I am glad to see the queen well despite it.”

“Very well,” The king sat up and squared his shoulders. “When we reach Drissot we shall deliver the news to the court.”

“News?” Barnes echoed.

“We have an heir on the way,” Steve beamed as he folded his hands atop the desk. “And it would unfortunately see further postponement of our trip to Asgard.”

“They will not be happy,” Barnes warned.

“I cannot further imperil my heir after such an incident,” The king explained. “We will carry on to Drissot and return to the capital thereafter. We can think of Asgard when my heir does arrive.”

“I shall go,” Barnes declared suddenly. “In your place.”

“What?” You gripped the back of the chair and felt the folded parchment in your sleeve.

“You?” The king asked.

“We needn’t a parade to seal the compact. I can have a party arranged and see to the negotiations myself.” Barnes urged. “How many times did I not see to your will abroad, your highness?”

“You would go in my place?” Steve pulled his hands apart and rubbed his jaw. 

“Stay. Keep your wife safe, welcome your child,” There was a trace of melancholy to the lord’s voice. “I think it would be best for all that I go.”

“You are certain?” The king raised a brow.

“Most certain,” Barnes assured and he let out a long breath. Of resignation, of relief. “If the conditions favour me, I might return to a new prince. And… would it not solve more than just the issue of Asgard?”

Steven stared at his friend. He caught his insinuation and leaned back in his chair. “I gather you’re right, Buck,” He said at last. “Very well, you shall go.”

“And…” Your voice nearly cracked as you stepped forward. You looked between the men nervously. “I think… you should take my father. As my own representative and in fulfillment of his council duties.”

“Ah, yes,” The king perked up at your suggestion. “Of course. My wife should not be without a man of her own. We are one now. My hand is hers, and hers mine.”

You smiled. If you would lose Barnes, you would at least be rid of another pest. You let out a shaky breath and resisted the urge to peek at Barnes. He stood stiffly, only feet from you. 

“Thank you, my king. My father should be most humbled by the task.” You said meekly.

“I will need a man with experience,” Barnes added. “Several. He should doubtlessly be an asset to the party.”

“So…” The king leaned on the arm of his chair. “When would you leave?”

“Tomorrow. When you leave for Drissot. I shall ride to the capital with Stark, if you’ll allow me to take him as well, and we will fetch Lord Malford and a few others.” Barnes talked slowly as if his thoughts could not keep up with his words. “Then to Shell’s Harth. A single ship all we’ll need.”

The king nodded and held his chin as he considered the plan. “You’re certain, Buck?”

“Do not pretend it is as it was,” Barnes said. “Separation is perhaps the best for us. Our only chance, even.” He looked to you for a moment and back to the king. “Ever the victor, your highness.”

The men stared at each other silently. You could barely breathe for the tension. The king was the first to speak.

“Ever right, my lord,” He said. “I wish you safe travels.”

“I wish you good health. Your child too.” Barnes replied. “And you, my queen,” He turned to you. “Keep well.”

He bowed and backed out of the room. You watched him as the weight settled in your chest and you watched him go. You turned back to the king as the door closed. His eyes clung to the wood and for an instant, a sliver of sadness coloured his face. It faded just as quickly as he looked to you.

“My queen,” He said softly. “You do look rather peaky. I think you should take some rest.”

“I think I should,” You agreed and rubbed your stomach again. “The road ahead will be a long one.”

👑

You brought the king his first wine after supper. You spent much of the day with him as he fretted over Drossit, Asgard, and your eventual return to the capital. The second followed shortly as you nursed your own slowly. The third he barely seemed to taste and he emptied the bottle with the fourth.

Halfway through the next, you helped him stumble to bed. You could say it was an effect of the stress or blame it on his usual thirst, but it was as deliberate as the steps you took into the bedroom. His arm was draped over your shoulders as his weight threatened to cause your legs to crumple beneath you. He belched as you angled him onto the mattress.

You unbuttoned his overcoat and he wriggled out of it drunkenly. You took his boots off for him and he yawned loudly. You sat beside him as his eyelids began to droop. He reached over and touched your stomach before you could move away. You stayed closed and rubbed his shoulder.

“You have me in you,” He slurred. “Growing inside.”

“I do,” You humoured and his hand slipped into your lap heavily.

“Amazing…” He closed his eyes and his head lolled back and forth. “So… amazing.”

“It is.” You whispered and watched him closely.

His breath evened out and he was soon snoring. He’d regret the wine in the morning when you were due to depart. A little suffering would do him well, you mused as you lifted his hand from your lap. He didn’t flinch as you set it down beside him and backed off the bed. 

You turned away and reached up into your sleeve and pulled out the leaf you’d read after Lord Barnes’ departure. Steve hadn’t noticed as you excused yourself with a dramatic gulp as if to spew upon him. “Chapel. Midnight.” Two words and yet they said all you needed.

You neared the door and looked back at the king. You were assured he wouldn’t wake before your return. You left him to doze and passed through the receiving chambers. You snuffed all but one lantern which you took with you as you stepped out into the corridor. Your guard looked at you grimly.

“I cannot sleep. I wish to visit the chapel.” You lied. “To pray.”

The guard grunted but did not protest. He followed behind as you walked down the hall and took the familiar path to the castle See. He remained outside upon your order and you entered with your lantern held high. The altar glowed with the light of a dozen candles and the pews were filled with shadows.

You walked down the aisle and found your usual place. You knelt and looked up at the apse. This was wrong. You knew that, but you had wasted so much time doing what was right. _What good had it done you?_ And you had erred regardless. In a moment of desperation, you did what was right for you, not what was morally correct. _And it served you well, so what was one last sin?_

You were early. A habit. You truly did pray for a time. Not for forgiveness, or guidance, merely a reflection upon all that had transpired. There was no absolution; no redemption; no forgiveness. It was too late for that. For everything.

You heard a click and glanced behind you but the door remained closed. Footsteps came quietly from the front of the chapel and a figure emerged into the light of candles from a doorway hidden behind the statue of some famous saint. Lord Barnes looked up at you and smiled. You watched him approach and your heart clamoured in your ears.

He lowered himself beside you and folded his hands. He looked up to the altar and his eyes shone. His lips remained curved; a knowing upon his face. You admired him in the dim. You wanted to remember him, remember this moment when he was gone from you.

“Why did do it?” You asked.

“I had to. For you.” He said quietly. “For the baby.”

“No, you didn’t.” You breathed.

“I did,” He insisted. “I know that because you came here tonight.”

“He won’t hurt me now, I have his heir inside of me.” You said.

“And when it has been borne? What then? Do you think he would abide a child that might not be his?”

You were silent. You looked down at your hands and picked at the bandage around the left. You shook your head. “And so we’ve come to say goodbye.” You uttered.

“And so we have,” He slid his hand over and wrapped his fingers around yours.

You looked to him and tried to smile. A tear trickled down your cheek and he turned you to him. He wiped away the droplet and leaned in. His nose brushed against yours and his breath surrounded you. “Don’t. I don’t want to remember you sad.”

You blinked away the tears and sniffed. You nodded and slipped your hand from his. You reached up to untie the bandage around your head and uncovered the gash across your cheek. The stitches tugged at your skin. He backed away slightly and looked you over.

“You are still the most beautiful woman I’ve ever known,” He sighed. “Astonishing.”

You lowered your lashes coyly. “Even after what I did?”

“What you did?” He reached out to run his finger just below the cut.

“The maid didn’t attack me. She only saw us and threatened to reveal it to the king.” You raised your eyes to him again. “I didn’t just scar my face, I scarred my soul.”

“You did what you had to do.” He pulled you back to him. “You’ve always done what you had to do, so now, do what you want to do.”

You crashed your lips into his. You slung your arms over his shoulders and pushed your chest to his. He embraced you and held you close as his lips slipped from yours. He kissed along your chin and neck as you tossed your head back. His fingers twined in the laces of your gown and tugged blindly.

You ran your hands along his shoulders and down his chest. You felt the firmness beneath, longed for it. Your lips met again as you unbuttoned his jacket and he let his arms fall back as you shoved the brocade down them. You parted as your gown loosened and you wriggled free of your bodice with his help. You stood and let him rip the dress past your hips.

Your corset was next, along with his undershirt, your slippers, his boots, stockings, your shift, his trousers, until you were entirely bare. Until you knelt before each other stunned and eager. Your eyes roved the lines of his torso, the muscle along his arms, the length of his desire. A fire burned so hot the smoke obscured all but that moment.

You kissed him again, your bandaged hand cradled his cheek hungrily. He pushed you back until you were on your back upon the floor, hidden between the pews. The candlelight flickered behind him as he hovered over you. He held himself over you as he gazed down through the dim.

“Are you certain?” He whispered.

“You’re the only thing I’ve ever wanted in all my life,” You framed his face with both hands and felt his soft hair between your fingers as you brushed it back. “The only thing that no one’s ever told me I should want.”

He smiled and brought his lips to yours again. He trailed them down along your throat, they tickled, and lower, to your chest. He doted on your flesh as he teased one breast and then the other. Not the rough nips you had come to know but a tender and easy worship of your flesh.

You inhaled as you tried not to giggle. His beard tickled your stomach as he got even lower. He lingered there and drew his nose around your navel. “You will be a beautiful mother, I should hate to miss it.”

“Do not think of it now,” You rasped. “Please.”

“Oh, but how can I think of anything but…” He purred as he slowly dragged his lips along your pelvis. “This.”

He nuzzled your tuft of hair and his breath was hot along your sex. You squirmed and reached down to touch his hair as it hung around his head. He dipped his tongue between your folds and danced around your bud. You gasped and spread your fingers over the crown of his head. He chuckled but did not relent.

His mouth had you writhing. And when you neared your peak he did retreat to teeth and tease your thighs. Until you pleaded for more and his tongue found that sacred spot again. Several times thus and you could not bear it. You hugged his head between your thighs and arched into him. 

“Please,” You begged. “Please.”

This time he did not cease. He lapped you up as you came and continued until you did again. He was reluctant to part as he left a trail along your stomach and chest and pressed his wet lips to yours. You tasted yourself on him; you tasted him. 

You took him in your hand and stroked. He trembled and you did it again. He shuddered as you repeated the motion over and over. You bent your legs around him and he lifted his head. You guided him to you and he held your head in his hand as he gazed into your eyes.

“Are you…”

“Shhh.” You hushed as you let him slip inside of you.

He sank into you and his lips parted. He gasped and you ran your fingers along the top of his broad chest, your arm bent between you. You hooked your legs over his and tilted your pelvis into him. He thrust slowly, steadily, as if to savour every moment.

You spread your fingers over his shoulder and trailed down to his bicep as you gripped the hard muscle there. You moaned as you welcomed him. You longed for more and more. You rocked into him from below as he sped up. You pulled him down to kiss you as you were overwhelmed by the sheer pleasure. Unlike any you’d felt before or likely, would again.

He pulled away as his breath picked up. He slid his arm beneath you and lifted you in a single motion. He held you in his lap as you rocked atop him. You were in control as he marveled up at you. You knotted your fingers in his hair as you pressed your other hand to his shoulder. You could barely withhold your moans as you chased your climax.

You hissed as you came and he gripped your hips to keep you moving. He slipped a hand down and cupped your ass as he guided you. His groans thrilled you and you couldn’t stop even as your orgasm fizzled. Another awaited you alongside his as he buried his face in your neck and grunted. 

You felt his seed fill you. You slowed and he twitched. You shivered as he raised his head and looked you in the eye. You never wanted to leave this place. To surrender this sacred secret. You clung to him and rested your head on his shoulder.

“I will write to you,” He whispered. “As much as I can. I shall recount every dream I have of you. Of the life we could have had. And we shall live it in our hearts. Apart but forever entwined.” His fingers crawled along your spine as the sweat cooled on your skin. “Will you write me?”

“Of course,” You promised. “As I shall read every letter until it should turn to dust.”

“And you will tell me if I should need to return?” He pulled back and you were forced to lift your head and look him in the eye. “Tell me if he hurts you.”

“Bucky…”

“Tell me.” He repeated.

“I will.” You swore as you pecked his lips. “I will.”

“But for now, one last goodbye,” He laid back with you atop him. “The present is always more satisfying than any future, for it is ours and we are here.” He caressed your thighs as he spoke, “We are alive.”

**END**


End file.
